


Arabian Nights

by Beryll (Rynthjan)



Category: Actor RPF, Bandom, Lord of the Rings RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Harem, M/M, Magic, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con References, Sexual Content, Slavery, Threesome, Torture, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-04 14:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 102
Words: 184,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Beryll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danish Prince Viggo, upon renouncing his title and homeland, wanders far and looses himself in the desert of Au Nafud. Saved a moment from death by the head of the Caliph's guard, Viggo finds himself becoming a part of the Caliph's life and when Hugo offers him the chance to be his adopted son, Viggo can not say no. With the status of an Arabian Prince Viggo finds himself drawn to many and many drawn to him. In attempting to help the weak he finds himself in a position he hadn't come across, the Master of a mismatched harem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written together with Liz and Mel.
> 
> Also - if you have read this before elsewhere you may notice some small differences. Some chapters have been re-written and some editing and correcting has been done on this latest version.

I  
by Mel

For many a foot the sand traveled onwards, the sun beat down. A cloudless sky rolled overhead, he remembered seeing oceans that color once, that rich blue that could almost blind with its intensity. The sand shone almost white beneath it, making it hard to focus on anything ahead other then his feet. They hurt from walking in constricting boots though it would be madness to remove them, he could feel the heat on the small parts of his flesh that met with the open air. Some days before he had found it strange to see the Nomadic people that lived in these deserts in white robes and now he wished he had followed their example, dark tan riding leathers and heavy black shirt that had seemed so practical, now drew more heat then necessary to his already dehydrating body. He should have been across the desert two days ago, but somehow he got incredibly lost. It would have been rather embarrassing if he didn't fear for his survival. He was the best hunter and tracker in his father's kingdom, he had believed that navigating a simple desert would have been easy. He had never been more wrong.

His once bright stormy eyes that had looked at his father with such defiance now glazed with fatigued. And yet he kept walking with grim determination not to perish that once made him famous amongst his people. Now it was the only thing that kept him moving, that ensured he didn't just pass out where he was. He had finished the last of his water yesterday and this morning had sucked as much of the dew from his clothes as he could before it had gotten to hot and they had dried out. His mouth had been dry for hours, or perhaps it was simply moments that seemed like hours. Sand had gotten into places he had never new existed, crusted to his clothing. He didn't even sweat anymore, there was not even enough water in his body for such a function.

He wondered silently if choosing this path had been a mistake. When presented the option to marry and settle down or leave, leaving had seemed the only option at the time. Now he wasn't so sure, a warm bed and the soft lines of a woman in his arms sounded of paradise. Perhaps he had been wrong to deny his father his wish.

No! He thought stubbornly, he had not been wrong. His father, King and a wonder as he was, had more sons, and Grandsons then one could poke a proverbial stick at. He wasn't needed to produce heirs, to carry on his family's line, and it was almost laughable to think that he had too. His father had no need of him, to marry him off was as convenient as sweeping him beneath a rug. And he would be no dust for anyone, especially his father. When he had walked out he had felt triumphant at the surprise on his father's face. He had not believed he would actually leave, that he would take his life into his own hands. He would have laughed in his face if that had not meant he would have found himself in a cold, dark cell rather quickly.

It was good to know he could still smile even as he could begin to feel his life ebbing away from him. He did not feel the wind pick up until sand stung the skin on his face. He had been warned of these sandstorms that could strip the flesh from your bones should you be caught in one. They moved quickly through the desert, their fury lasting bare moments, but the man had spoke in fear and awe of such an event. They were not to be reckoned with.

It battered at his body, intent on bringing him down. In his weakened state he would not have this. He had fought to come so far, against exhaustion and dehydration. He would not give into a work of nature. He continued to move against the wind, to fight against what would push him back. He would not return and be his father's puppet. Rage boiled up and over and he continued to move, lifted his face to the sky and howled, howled till he could do no more and he finally to gave in to the demons and collapsed, falling to the ground as the storm passed with his rage.

It was here that the Lord Viggo may have found his end, a broken man, unconscious and so close to death that few would have been able to tell the difference. In the darkened place where his consciousness resided he did not hear the hooves of horses come upon him, nor the softly whispered words or gentle hands that checked his condition. He missed the shouted order and being lifted into a saddle. All he knew was darkness and the feel of comforting hands around his waist and softly whispered words in his ear. "You are safe now."


	2. Chapter 2

II  
by Beryll

Karl slowly trailed his fingers through the cool water, stirring the soft pedals that had been added to fill the room with their scent. His eyes roamed the city spread below the palace but his mind was with the stranger sleeping on the soft divan that occupied the middle of the room. He was not sure, why this man had caught his attention so thoroughly. He had found many an interesting thing in the desert in his service to the Caliph but none had fascinated him as this man did.

When he had found him in the desert he had been more dead than alive. One of Karl men had noticed him lying there, half covered with sand. He had first feared that it was a member of the caravan the Caliph had send him to look for. But when his men had turned the stranger over it had become clear that this man was not native to the desert. No one born to the harsh sun would venture out in clothing as foolish as his.

Karl had then checked him over himself to see if there was still life in him. That was when his fascination had started. For a brief moment the man had opened his fever-clouded eyes and looked at him. Karl had no idea what the stranger had seen, but a smile had ghosted over his cracked lips and he had whispered something Karl did not understand. Then he had drifted back into his heat-filled dreams and Karl had felt cold fear grip his heart, that this man would not survive. He had sent some of his men to go on looking for the caravan and he had taken the stranger back to Aqaba.

His position as the head of the Caliph's guard had given him instant access to a physician, who had tended to the dehydration and the dangerous sunburns of the stranger. And now the man slept in Karl's very own quarters and Karl waited. Either his Lord would summon him or he would show up himself to find out what his favored warrior had brought back this time. 

Karl actually had a reputation for finding things in the desert and some of them had proved quite interesting for his Lord. One of the Caliph's favored wives had also been lost in the desert, when Karl had picked her up. But this time Karl found himself hoping, that his Lord would not take an interest in this stranger. He wanted to keep the man for himself. Although he was not really sure what for.

As if the Caliph had heard his words and only waited for this realization, the door opened and admitted Caliph Hugo, Lord over Aqaba and all adjoining lands, by divine will protector of his people and guardian of the faith. His dark hair neatly tugged beneath his turban, his royal features stern and forbidding as always, richly embroidered robes sweeping the floor as he moved over to the captain of his guard, who immediately left his place on the window-sill and knelt to him. In his hurry to lower his head completely missing the amused twinkle in his Lord's eyes.

"You have returned rather early." His Lord came straight to the point. "And without the lost caravan I sent you to look for." Karl wanted to defend his actions, but the Caliph continued. "As you are not prone to leave a duty unfinished I believe you had good reason." Karl nodded and raised his head, relieved that his Lord was not angry. The Caliph went over to the divan and looked down at the sleeping from.

"So this is the man who has stolen your attention from your duties?" he asked. In the way he phrased it, it somehow got a strange additional meaning, but Karl chose to ignore that. "Yes, my Lord. We found him close to death and I wanted to make sure he survives." "And why is that?" The Caliph asked softly. Karl got to his feet and moved over to his Lord. He realized he had no real explanation. Lord Hugo seemed to sense this and gracefully sat down on the divan to get a better look at the stranger.

After a moment he took the right hand of the sleeping man and examined a ring. One of his elegant eyebrows arched. "It would seem, that you have proven a talent for sound decisions again." He said, smiling at Karl. "Do you know this ring?" Karl shook his head. Obviously it meant something to the Caliph. So he probably wouldn't get to keep the stranger after all.

"He is of royal blood." Lord Hugo explained. "The son of a european monarch. I wonder what he was doing - all alone in the desert." He looked at the stranger for a while, then at Karl. "I want you to guard this man well." He said. "We do not know what kinds of danger may follow him. Send word when he wakes up. I wish to speak to him, before anybody else does." The Caliph carefully brushed a strand of unruly dark hair out of the sleeping man's face in a strangely tender gesture. "I wish to know what kind of ill has befallen him, that he travels my land alone and unguarded."

Then he got up abruptly and only paused when he had reached the door. "You are excused from your other duties, while you watch out for him." He said, smiling at Karl. "That should please you." Karl bowed deeply, wondering what his Lord had seen in the stranger and if he had looked into Karl's heart as well to find this wish. "I will guard him with my life." He said. "Let us hope, it will not come to that." The Caliph remarked with a small smirk and left.

Karl looked down at the sleeping figure again. He had been right. He would not be allowed to keep the man. But maybe he would be allowed to stay close to him for a while.


	3. Chapter 3

III  
by Beryll

There were a few things Sean had found out about himself in the last days. But the one that really stood out was that hated sand. He hated it with a passion that he was wondering why it wasn't melting from it. Then again there was so much of it around him currently he couldn't help but imagine that it was laughing back at him. Just like he had imagined so many other things: his mother in a flower field picking buttercups, a floating castle protected by a ridiculous pink dragon... and of course water. Water in every possible form known to mankind.

With an exhausted sigh he stopped on a dune to survey the unforgiving landscape he was trapped in. Sands everywhere, rising and falling in uneven dunes that all looked the same to Sean.

He was lost and he knew it.

The natives had warned him not to enter the desert without a local guide. He told him of the stupid northerner who had done so only the previous day, joking about the fact that he might already be dead. 

Why the Prince had entered the desert all on his own was beyond Sean but most of the things his Prince had recently done were beyond Sean. Why he had run away from home, why he had travelled all over Europe without ever stopping anywhere more than a day or two making it impossible for Sean to catch up to him - and most importantly why he had not asked Sean to accompany him. That really was what hurt the most, that Viggo had not trusted him. Had he really thought Sean wouldn't follow him anyway?

Sean sighed softly. Viggo's pride was well known to him. Combined with the Prince's caring nature it was a volatile mix. It meant that the Prince tried to shoulder every responsibility he came across, that he believed he knew best how to do it - and that he tried to do it all alone, not to trouble or endanger his friends and family.

Of course Sean had followed his Prince into the desert, accompanied by a native guide. They had been able to pick of Viggo's trail and follow him. Until the sandstorm had blown up. Until Sean had insisted on pressing on when his guide had warned him to seek cover. Until said guide had called him insane and abandoned him. Until the sandstorm had hit and Sean had quickly lost all sense of direction and been thrown off by his horse.

Looking back Sean cursed his own foolishness. He should have listened to the guide. Now he hadn't just lost his Prince but his own way as well and the sun was trying hard to bleach any bit of sense out of him that might still remain.

When he suddenly heard the soft neighing of a horse his first thought was that it was nothing but another imagination, the heat playing tricks on his mind. But when he scanned the surrounding desert is was not as empty as it had seemed only moment ago. On one of the dunes to his right a group of riders had appeared. Six of them, all wrapped in the long white robes the locals favoured, their heads hidden in hoods, faces covered with scarves that showed only the eyes. Something warned Sean that they were not friendly.

His hand gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. The one piece of home he had not abandoned and would not abandon. 

He watched as they spurred their horses on, riding down their dune and then up his. When they circled around him silently he drew his sword. He was tired and lost but by no means beaten yet.

"Lost in great Au Nafud, are you stranger?" one of the riders sneered down at him, "shall we show you the way?"

Sean stayed motionless, trying to prepare. An attack would come, he just wasn't sure from where. Two soft thuds behind him warned him that two of the riders had dismounted. He whirled to face them. Only when he felt a sharp sting in his neck did he realize he had been tricked. His vision swam, dark blotches appearing. He stumbled, his senses deserting him, then fell

The last thing he felt were harsh hands grabbing his hair, lifting his head.

"You will make an interesting slave." A cruel voice commented from far away.

Then darkness claimed him.


	4. Chapter 4

IV  
by Mel

Pain  
It exploded in his consciousness, making him unnecessarily aware all over again. He longed for nothing more then to be lost in the dark. At least he had felt safe there. Here, at the verge of awareness, he could feel the aches, the pain, but thankfully no sand.

Viggo never wanted to see sand again in his life. But for now the pain over run all thoughts, even pleasant ones of being free of sand. He must have made some sound, some noise that punctuated the air as he felt hands roam his skin, soothing the pain, offering comfort. He felt the pain recede, his consciousness with it, he sighed into this gentle touch.

"Sleep now Princeling," a soft voice he had heard once before soothed softly and Viggo found himself obeying the gentle command. "Answers can come in the morning."

********

When Viggo woke again the pain was easier too bear, the sun was up and he was alone. It took time but he managed to open his eyes and take in his surroundings. The soft silk that covered his body came from sheets that rubbed against his bare chest and sunburnt arms. Sweet smells from a thousand spices reached his noes and his body ached with sudden hunger. He remembered little of how he came to be in this beautiful place.

He hissed, pain rising as he attempted to lift his heavy body from the divan that he lay upon. Taking in the aches and pains Viggo realized he had been bathed, perhaps a number of times, and light silken pants were the only thing that encumbered his frame. He was grateful, the sunburn was painful though it only covered certain parts of his body.

As he was seated the beads hanging in the doorway of the room parted and a young woman entered. She smiled, surprised by his wakefulness, carrying a tray of fruit and water. Her dark hair, eyes and tanned skin gave the woman away as one native to the desert. Her clothes were light and silken, flowing around her body easily as she moved. There was a veil over the bottom half of her face in white, but it hid little, her smile could still be seen beneath it. She placed the tray on the table beside him, lifting the shallow cup from it.

"Water?" He could tell her English was not very good, but she knew enough to make basic commands understood.

Viggo attempted a smile at the pretty, young thing and put her at ease by returning the question with an answer spoken in her own language. "Please?"

The smile beneath her veil grew and she handed the cup to him. "Eat," she told him softly, bowing slightly as she moved to leave, "I must go and find Karl, he will be pleased to see you are awake."

"Who are you?" He asked before she passed back out the arch.

She glanced at him over, smile still playing on her lips. "Liv, sir, head of the Caliph's of Aqabas household." And she was back out the archway before Viggo was able to ask her anymore questions, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He had wandered further then he had first thought, not that it mattered. He was lucky he had not died in the sand. He silently thanked whatever deities were listening. Viggo was thankful that he had not been picked up by slave traders, or worse, some Nomadic band. There had been tales he had heard that made even his skin crawl. And he had heard tales of the Caliph of Aqaba on his travels, but they had been nothing but nice. Even those of places that had fallen to the Caliph's armies, spoke of how their lands prospered under his rule. There was a rumor that the Caliph feared for his children's lives, as they were said to be very young and many looked to rule Aqaba. He wondered if this Karl was the Caliph they had spoken of. When the young man entered he realised that he could not be the Caliph. Viggo had known warriors all his life, he was one of the best in his land, and this man was a trained warrior. His skin was bronze from the sun, his black hair in many tiny braids with bright coloured beads at the ends. His eyes were not as dark as Viggo had expected them to be, but a burning hazel that seem to light up at the sight of his consciousness. 

He slipped a white robe from his shoulders, leaving his chest bare, remaining only in the hemp like pants he wore. The room itself was quite warm, but not that hot, so Viggo could only wonder at the reason behind the desert warrior shedding his clothing.

"So you are finally awake, Princeling."

Relief flooded Viggo at the sound of his voice. "I do believe it is my savior, I owe you much, my Lord."

The warrior before him chuckled, "you are the only Lord in this room Princeling." The man told him, as two others entered the room, pouring an urn of heated water into a tub across the room and leaving. "I am Karl, Captain of the Caliph Hugo's guard. You had wandered far into our desert and yet he did not bend you to his will. You have earned many of my people's respect Princeling, including my own," the Warrior, Karl, poured sweet oil into the water, running his fingers slowly through it, mixing, before he stood and wiped his hand on a length of cloth. "I would like to the name of one who has withstood the fury of the Au Nafud."

"Viggo," he told him, "and I am no longer anymore a prince then you are Captain Karl."

Karl smiled at him, full lips parting, eyes sparking with delight. "We shall see Princeling. Now, let's get you bathed, My Caliph wishes to meet with you as soon as you have bathed and eaten."


	5. Chapter 5

V  
by Beryll

The afternoon filled the grand audience hall of Caliph Hugo's palace with stifling heat. The high walls were decorated with the weapons and banners of fallen enemies. Most defeated by Hugo's forefathers, some by himself. The high windows on one side looked out over the city, allowing the sunheated air unhindered access. The white floor reflected the sunlight almost painfully.

Hugo knew, that the hall had been constructed like this on purpose to make those who came to see their Caliph so uncomfortable they would not be able to keep there mind on the matters at hand. That had been a cunning idea but it proofed rather useless when the Caliph himself couldn't concentrate as well. Even the large nubian slave, standing by his throne, fanning him constantly, did little to relief him.

He very much preferred to meet his guests in one of the smaller audience chamber, but as this was sort of a "visit of state" he had decided to await his guest here. But already he was beginning to doubt his own judgment.

Caliph Hugo rubbed his brow thoughtfully. He had send out some discreet inquiries to find out who his guest was, but so far none of his messengers had returned. So he would have to move carefully. It would not do to antagonize an unknown possible opponent. He was sure however that the seal on the ring of the ma, was of the king of Denmark.

A slave girl handed him a goblet with cool drink and he smiled at her in gratitude. He always made it a point to treat those servants who performed well with courtesy. She bowed deeply and disappeared out of the hall again. Hugo's eyes followed her with a bit of envy and a lot of appreciation. That was a cute one. He had to remember to ask Liv about her.

His musings were cut short when the doors to the hall finally opened, admitting a gush of cooler air from the hallway outside and his visitor, accompanied by Karl. Caliph Hugo watched, as the man approached. He still looked tired and sunburned, but he was definitely regenerating well. Awake he did not look as young anymore, as tension made lines appear on his face that had been absent in sleep. He was an experienced man, the Caliph realized, not an inexperienced Princeling.

The more he wondered what this man had been doing all alone in the middle of Au Nafud. The desert swallowed whole caravans. How could one man on his own risk her wrath?

Said man stopped some paced from the throne and hesitated for a moment, before he bowed deeply. Caliph Hugo inclined his head lightly to return the greeting. For a while they were both silently studying each other. Although his guest was still weakened by his encounter with Au Nafud, the Caliph could see, that he was a strong man. A seasoned warrior probably, who had seen his share of fights. His stormy eyes were sharp and curious, taking in his surroundings as well as his host.

"I welcome you to my house, prince." Hugo said at last. "I trust you are feeling better?" 

The man nodded, a bit of surprise showing on his face. "How do you know who I am?" he asked. 

Hugo smiled. "I have drawn my conclusions from the ring you are wearing. Either you are a very brave thief or it belongs to you by birthright." 

The man looked down at his hand in surprise, as if seeing the ring on his finger for the first time, but then he slowly nodded. "I completely forgot it was there." he said, more to himself then to Hugo. 

Then he bowed again, this time not as stiffly and said. "Forgive my lack of manners. I am Viggo, fourth son of the king of Denmark. And that is all title I can still claim. I fear my father has stripped me of all others by now..." He smiled ruefully. "So I am no prince at all but still wear that ring by right. I must thank you for saving my life and granting my hospitality, but I fear I have nothing to repay your generosity."

The Caliph could not help smiling back at Viggo. He liked the courage with which the prince accepted his lot in life and still stayed true to his upbringing in not forgetting how to treat another Lord. "It was freely given and does not expect payment." he answered.

"But I would know, how you came to be in my domain and what ill fate has befallen you, that a father would strip such a promising young man of his titles and expel him from his presence." Caliph Hugo let his gaze sweep the hall and then return to Viggo's face, noticing the sweat gathering on his brow. "But let us retire to cooler quarters. This is no place for pleasant chatting."

The relief was obvious in Viggo's eyes. He bowed yet again. "At your pleasure, my Lord." he said. Hugo rose from his throne and together they made their way from the hot hall, trailed by Karl.

*****

Some minutes later they had settled down in one of the gardens of the palace under the shading leaves of a tall palm tree. Slaves brought refreshments and only when the Caliph was sure, that his guest was comfortable, did he start the conversation again.

He listened with interest, as Viggo told him how he had resisted his fathers wish to marry him off to some minor noble woman for political reasons, listened to Viggo describing his long journey through Europe, how he had come to Africa, visiting Kairo and Tunis and how he had finally almost lost his fight against Au Nafud. It was an adventurous story and Hugo was rather sure, that Viggo unconsciously added details and exaggerated parts. His way of story-telling was that of an artist, his hands constantly moving to explain, his eyes sparkling after he had lost his initial shyness. It was a joy to listen to him.

When he finally concluded his story by describing how he had awoken in the palace, Hugo smiled at him. "My prince – and I would still call you this as you do not know what your father has done – I am sure you have repaid any debt you may have had to me by this wonderful tale. In fact I am rather sure I owe you now. Would you accept my hospitality for a while longer? To fully recover and maybe tell me some more about your homeland?"

Viggo did not need time to consider the offer. He nodded immediately. "Thank you, my Lord." he said. "Your offer is most welcome." Again that rueful smile showed on his face. "I fear, I have nowhere to go anyway, so if you are in need of a soldier...?" 

Hugo raised his hands against such an improper suggestion. "Ah, never, dear prince, expect such a lowly treatment from me. You are my honored guest and may stay as long as you wish. And that is the end of this matter."


	6. Chapter 6

VI  
by Mel

As Viggo left, he found Karl awaiting him outside the archway that led into the lush gardens. The warrior had his back turned towards Viggo, his arms crossed over his chest. He had been ensuring that he and the Caliph had not been disturbed whilst they had been speaking, something that Viggo found quite endearing. He had been here such a sparse amount of time and yet he already found himself hoping to find Karl every way he turned. He was so like Sean in that respect, and he would be glad to be devoted to the two of them.

Sean. Now there was the one man he very much missed. They had known each other since they were children and though there was a few years difference between the two of them, they had been completely inseparable since they could walk. Sean had always been his guardian and friend. He had protected Viggo without complaint, accompanied him on his foolish adventures. But not on this one. It was better that Sean had stayed at home, Viggo thought with a sigh, he wouldn't be exactly safe but at least safer than here. Still Sean might have enjoyed it here, Viggo thought. And he would like the Caliph very much. He wasn’t too sure about Karl, the thought of the two of them meeting each other actually brought a smile to his tired face.

”You have the mind of a dreamer. What thought makes you smile so, Princeling?” Viggo had not even realized Karl had moved and now the dark haired Warrior stood right before him.

”Just thinking of an old friend, Captain Karl, I do not think I will ever see him again,” Viggo sighed, the very thought making him sad. He should have brought Sean with him, at least then he would not feel quite as lost as he did now.

”He must have been a great man to be held so high in your regard,” Karl said softly, ”but it will not do to have your thoughts lingering on things that make you sad. You are not made for tears. Come, if the Caliph has not tired you out with all his talking, I will show you around his home, and to your new rooms.”

Viggo was about to ask what Karl meant when the rest of his words registered. ”New rooms?”

********

Karl led Viggo through the palace at a slow pace, his eyes continued too look around him. The walls were sandstone and made what should have been an incredibly heated area rather cool. There were woven tapestries hanging from the walls depicting either the great rulers of Aqaba or battle scenes of amazing numbers that it made his father’s battles seem so insignificant.

He tried to take it all in at once whilst mindful of his exhausted state. He was still trying to overcome his brush with the great desert beyond the dunes, and as such he wanted nothing more then to curl up and fall asleep. The talk with the Caliph had really taken it out of him and only now did the strain begin to show.

It was almost the most natural thing in the world for Karl to reach out and take his elbow to guide him the remainder of the way, so natural that it took a few moments for Viggo to even register the light touch. As they walked, he took his time to explain each and every one of the tapestries. Some were relatively easy to understand. Others had stories that spanned the ages. Karl’s soft voice had him so caught up in the tales of this magnificent land that he did not even realize that they had arrived at their destination until the hand on his elbow squeezed lightly, bringing him to a stop.

And he gasped in surprise at the place he had been brought to.

The simple courtyard that the archway opened out to was simply breathtaking. It was paved in terracotta stones, the same color as the sands of the Au Nafud, with vines hanging from the walls, standing metal candelabras lines the walls. A small fountain trickled water on one side where native birds twittered and bathed. The center of the of the area was sunken slightly, a great round area for a large bonfire at night and the ceiling opened in a great circle to show the sun during the day and the stars at night. There was an area in the corner strewn with comfortable pillows and two low tables for entertaining. Three archways led off on each of the other walls, the one to his left draped in silken curtains.

”This is your entertaining area, Princeling. This is where you would meet your guests,” Karl gestured to the archway on the right, ”that archway leads too your bathing area, simply pull the golden cord hanging inside and hot water will be brought to you.” Next the center archway, which seemed to be brighter. ”Your practice arena, where you and your guests, if you wish, can train in different fighting techniques.” And the last archway, the one that first caught his attention. ”And this leads to your inner sanctum, where you and those whom you are close to shall be in private. No one may enter in here with out your expressed permission.”

Viggo did not know what to say. ”I thought the room I awoke in-?” he trailed off, blue eyes falling on the man beside him.

Karl’s smile rose like the sun. ”That, my dear Princeling, was my room. I wished to keep a close eye on you while you recovered.”

”Your room?” the word rolled off his tongue as the visions assaulted his mind. He had been sleeping in this man’s bed. The thought of those silken sheets twisted around his copper limbs made the blood rush to his cheeks in a slight blush.

”You have had a long day,” Karl said softly, the hand still on his elbow moved him into the room. ”Come, it is time for you to rest, Princeling.”

********

When Karl parted the silken curtains to leave, Liv was waiting for him, fluffing pillows in the corner. She looked up at the rustle of the silk, her dark eyes smiling at the sight of Karl.

”Does he sleep?”

”At last,” Karl sighed, ”he had many questions. I believe he is recovering well, but I will need to rub in some more cream soon, his skin dries quickly.” His burrow drew together in a slight scow, ”what has happened?”

Liv usually smiling face sobered, her head bowing. ”They tried again, Karl.” She had to pause as his light curses filled the air. ”Neither of them were hurt, but we have lost another two of your guards.”

”Who?”

”Halbear and Alin.” There was a pause as silent prayers were said for the two departed warriors. ”If Ian had not been there, we may have lost them both this time.”

Karl spared a small smile for the retired warrior, now slave trainer, who could still hold out against an army. ”How is the Caliph?”

”With them,” Liv sighed, ”his worries grow daily, Karl, I fear for his health. He is not as young as he once was and he has a kingdom to care for. This can not go on.”

Karl nodded, he knew just as well as Liv if anything happened to them, their master would go mad with grief. ”Come Liv, I believe our Caliph had an idea, we must help him make steps to bring it about. They will surely be dead with in the week if we do not.”


	7. Chapter 7

VII  
by Beryll

The lines of worry and a deep tiredness were etched deeply into the face of Caliph Hugo, when he quietly closed the door behind him. His two most trusted advisors felt his pain as if it were their own when he faced them.

"How are they?" Karl asked, keeping his voice low not to disturb the occupants of the room the Caliph had just left.

The Caliph sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. Such a gesture of open distress was seldom seen with him and Karl and Ian exchanged worried glances.

"They are asleep now." the Caliph said. "There nurse managed to lull them into slumber. And my presence seemed to reassure them as well." He started walking in the direction of his private chambers and his two advisors fell into step behind him.

"They had to witness poor Alin die." the Caliph continued. "He held back the last two assassins right in their nursery. His courage and will to sacrifice himself are a great honor to your guard, Karl. His soul will be welcomed with much respect in the afterlife."

Karl knew the Caliph was trying to console him on his loss of yet another of the guards, but Karl's whole worry was with the Caliph himself. And with the children.

It was Ian who asked the question that was on Karl's mind. "So what do you think, my Lord? Dare we wait any longer?"

The Caliph stopped abruptly and turned to look at the two men who had accompanied him through the years of his reign over Aqaba. They were not only advisors but also friends to him. They had stayed with him in good and bad times, but never before had their peril been so intangible and yet so great.

"There is no doubt in my mind, that he is suited for this role." he said, "the only question is, if he will accept, what I wish to offer." He looked at Karl questioningly, but the Captain of his guard shrugged.

"I am not sure either." he answered. "He is still tired. And you, my Lord, have spoken to him at much greater length then I have. But he does not strike me as a man who would shun a difficult task or shy away from responsibility."

"He did run away from his father, though." Ian commented. "Does that not qualify as running from responsibility as well?"

Caliph Hugo slowly shook his head. "No. From what he has told me, the only thing he feels really sorry for is deserting his people. But he felt they would be well cared for by his brothers. There was no responsibility for him there. Except maybe to dutifully marry the woman his father had picked for him. We can all see why a vigorous young man would want to do something useful with his life instead of being an unimportant husband in some minor province."

Ian bowed his head in consent and to hide the small smile on his lips. He remembered as well as the Caliph that he himself had run away, many, many years ago from his own father, to find adventure. He had served with the guards of Caliph Hugo's father and later as a general in the army of the Sultan. But in the end, he had returned to Aqaba, the only place he truly called home.

"So you really want to make him your heir, my Lord?" Karl asked. "Is it right to take the throne from your own son to give it to a man who is still almost a stranger to us?"

"I would rather have my son alive than dead and with a throne that will likely bring him more grief than joy," the Caliph answered, a note of fierceness creeping into his voice. "Our friend Viggo craves something important to do. If I make him my heir, that will not only shift the focus of whoever is after us from my children to him. He will also be able to share with me the duties of reigning over Aqaba. Maybe he, in his youthful enthusiasm, will be able to deal with those nomads I never got around to getting rid of."

At that remark, Karl smiled. Those nomads were almost proverbial in the region for unpleasant things that just had to be endured. He seriously doubted that Viggo would be able to help the Caliph in that regard but he did understand why his Lord brought them up. It was true that since their last conquest it had gotten difficult to keep the lands of Aqaba under control. Even a Caliph as skilled as Hugo could only keep his eyes on so many things. And trustworthy men were rare.

"Also the Sultan will not object to my naming him heir as he is of royal blood. It is the best solution I can think of and we do not have the time to find a better one," the Caliph concluded and his advisors nodded their assent.

*****

Viggo watched the two children in silence. The little girl looked like she was about four years old. Her thick black hair was carefully braided. Her delicate face made her look like a little fairy. Her tiny hands were carefully sorting through colored stones, arranging them in a circle.

Her younger brother was as noisy as she was quiet. He was sitting in another corner, brandishing a small wooden sword, yelling commands at the toy soldiers his nurse had arranged in a little army in front of him.  
Both of them reminded him of his own siblings. To think that anybody would threaten these innocent children was... horrifying. But he knew from experience that the greed of some people knew no boundaries. 

He turned around to face his host. Now the lines on his face and the tired circles under the Caliph's eyes made a new kind of sense. It was not the abundance of work that weighed this gracious man down, but worry for the two things that were most precious to him. His children.

Honor demanded he accept his offer, but even had it not been so, his heart would have clamored for him to do the thing that would make the lives of these beautiful children safe again. Already part of his mind was occupied with finding ways to distract their enemies from them. And to find those enemies and eradicate them.

The smile the Caliph showed was tired but filled with deep love for the children, when he again looked at them and then at Viggo.

"What do you say, Viggo?" he asked. "Will you help me?"

There was only one proper answer to that. Viggo went down on one knee and bowed his head deeply. "My Lord, you honor me beyond measure with your offer. In no way am I deserving of so much kindness, when you have already granted me your hospitality and friendship. But I do see that this is the only way to protect your children. Whatever is in my power I will do to protect them and serve you in any way I can. I pledge to you my loyalty, my sword and my life. I accept your offer. I will be your son."


	8. Chapter 8

VIII  
by Beryll

The constant sound of dripping water, slow, drop by drop.

Sean blinked bleary eyes, trying to focus them, trying to focus his sluggish mind. Where was he and why was water the last thing he would expect to hear?

Slowly the world around him reformed - in sight as well as in sound. Near darkness, the only light shed by a crackling torch some feet away, separated from him by heavy iron bars. Roughly hewn stone walls enclosing him in a small room - no - a cell. Cool air against his sunburned skin, a relief and then again - too cold, the dank coolness that seeps into bones and leaves one shivering. Smells of sweat and piss and dried blood of ages of accumulated fear and despair.

Sean shook his head, trying to clear it from the last shreds of foggy confusion.

Shreds of memory came back to him. They had kept him drugged on their journey through the desert, how long it had been Sean had no way of telling. He remembered them giving him water, forcing food into him. Hands exploring his body where they had no place being. A sharp voice: "Leave him! He's for the master!" Pain at the back of his head after his helpless body had slipped from the horse, falling hard.

That pain was still there. Sean tried to raise his hand to feel for it, only to realize that his hands were bound tightly in front of him with sturdy iron shackles.

Only now did he check himself. Hands bound as well as his ankles, only that there he had a stretch of chain between the shackles. Stripped of his clothes apart from his breeches. All his belongings, gone. 

Strangely enough it was the loss of h sword that hurt most. The weapon he had carried since he had first learned how to fight. It had become a part of him, a trusted friend. 

His thoughts were shattered by a howl of pain, coming from somewhere close by.

Wherever he was and whatever they planned to do to him - it was not a good place to be.

Getting up was hard, unsteady still with the last effects of the drug, but it had to be done. He had to find a way to escape.

-

Hours? Days?

Sean had no way of telling how much time had passed. Hunger and thirst were gnawing at him, but that could mean anything. His search for a means of escape had proved futile. He could only hope they would improve when he learned who kept him imprisoned.

But at last there were heavy footsteps coming closer, down the corridor outside his cell. Many of them.

There were five of them. Men wrapped in the robes and scarves of the desert people. Stopping in front of his cell to look at him.

Demanding his release was on Sean's lips but the words stuck in his throat when the one in the finest robes spoke to the one next to him.

"You never fail to please, my friend. This one truly is a beauty. I will enjoy fucking him."

And then he turned to Sean with eyes so cold they made Sean's heart freeze.

"I will so enjoy breaking you, my pretty."


	9. Chapter 9

IX  
by Mel

”What do you think of them, Princeling?”

Viggo looked up at Karl. He had been sitting in the corner, watching the children play. They had moved during the course of the day, so that the two of them were seated next to each other. They were both taking turns to place the colored stones atop of each other in a pyramid shape. The girl, Kalila, let her brother place his stone next. Numair’s laughter echoed through the room as they set easily together.

”They are beautiful, Karl.” As Viggo’s blue eyes again fell on the children, they softened in their affection and Karl could almost see the years fade away as he watched the Caliph’s children play. It amazed him that a man, who had lived as a warrior, could find such wonder in one small interaction, not that he was one to speak of such things. The children were Hugo’s, after all, and seemed to have inherited his grace and charm. They had the household wrapped around their small fingers, including Karl himself.

”They are,” Karl agreed, a hand reaching out, touching his shoulder lightly, ”and they will adore you." 

”Am I making the right decision, Karl?”

The question was so soft that Karl would have missed it had he not been listening so carefully. The voice was full of uncertainty. Some where along the way Karl had managed to forget that this was a man who had given up his whole life for his ideals, and almost lost it to the desert. A man who now had a new title and responsibility thrown upon him in a place where he knew no one, and he was still recovering from his ordeal. They had lost that thought somewhere whilst their own problems over run them.

”I believe you have, Princeling,” Karl whispered, his body automatically bending so his lips were by his ear. His arms wrapped gently around the Prince’s neck, a gesture meant for comfort. ”But what ever happens, I will be by your side in what ever decision you make, in where ever this path shall take you.”

There was silence, and for a moment Karl feared he had stepped outside his boundaries. And then a tentative hand reached out, clinging to his forearm. Viggo’s body seemed to heave a sigh in his relief.

”Thank you, Karl,” blue eyes stared, wide and thankful, ”I do not know where I would be without you.”

”Excuse me?” Both men looked up and across the room, Liv stood at the door, soft smile beneath the veil as the two moved to stand. ”The Caliph has almost finished his address. It is time for you to come out and meet your new people my lord.”

Viggo felt a tugging at his trousers and he looked down into the big, dark eyes of Kailia. ”Can I come too?”

”Me too! Me too!” Numair hurried to stand, not wanting to be left out.

Liv was about to scold the children for their behavior when Viggo and Karl scooped them both up, Viggo’s hands full of the snuggling girl, and Karl’s with the bouncing boy and both breezed passed Liv, identical smiles on their faces. She shook her head, smiling after them before following.

Viggo found himself pausing at the beaded curtain, he could hear the shouts of the people beyond. It was Karl’s gentle hand that rested at the small of his back that made the Danish man take the final steps forward, lifting the beads out of the way so they didn’t hurt Kalila.

”My people, I give you your Prince, the Prince Viggo.”

When the roar of the crowd below him rose to meet them and Viggo knew he had made the right decision.

* * * * *

Viggo had yet to see Aqaba in all its finery. Karl had wanted to show Viggo the grandness of it all at dusk, just before the sun set down and their city became alive. With the smells of spices, glowing candlelights and open flames as the sun went down for the day and the air around them cooled quickly. Their city was so much more magical then and he wanted nothing more then to introduce Viggo to it. But he was also mindful of the new Prince’s state and decided that a quick circle around the market place now would have to suffice until he was well again.

With Viggo clothed in soft white silk, he looked like a spirit sent to them, one there to help them in this time of need. He carried only one knife on him whilst Karl held a spear in one hand, the other pointing out different things as they moved. A small group of guards stood a little away from them, far enough to not intrude, but close enough to give assistance if needed. Viggo seemed comfortable, his body moving easily, gracefully through the sandy streets and bustle of people. He nodded to people, greeting them in their own language. They seemed a little in awe of their new Prince and stared openly at him.

”I feel like an interesting looking bug,” Viggo confessed to his companion.

Karl chuckled. ”Trust me, Princeling, you are so much more interesting then some multi-legged creature.” He enjoyed finding new ways to make Viggo flush, which he did now. ”Many of our people already adore you, the Noble Prince from far away who fought and won against the Au Nafud.”

Viggo snorted. ”Stupid you mean. There is nothing wonderful about getting lost and almost dying.”

”It brought you to us, did it not?” Karl’s smile was tender. ”I think that is the most magical thing to ever grace my life.”

Viggo was about to open his mouth to comment when someone jostled him. Whomever he was, he was good, warm slim hands moved quickly into his pockets almost without him noticing. It took years to get that sort of skill, Viggo could appreciate that, he even wished there had been something in his pockets for the skilled pickpocket. Karl’s spear came down quickly, resting against the boy’s bared neck. The kid drew sharply to a stop, the bronze spear an obvious surprise.

Viggo noticed the quick flash of fear in the youth’s chocolate eyes before they fell on Karl. And then it was gone and his lips blossomed into a bright smile.

”Captain Karl,” his eyes danced, ”I didn’t even notice you there.”

”So I see, Kitten,” Karl drawled. ”You did not just try to lift any of my charge’s belongings did you?”

The grin was cheeky. ”Me?” Thick eyelashes battered, ”would I do that?”

”It’s alright, Karl, I had nothing in my pockets anyway,” Viggo’s smile now matched the young man before him. ”He however did.” Viggo held up a small tan bag, making the dark haired boy’s eyes widen and Karl laugh. He snatched the bag quickly out of his hand, staring at the Danish man before him with a lot more respect. Unsure what to do, the boy chose the easiest option, he stuck his tongue out at Karl and danced back into the crowd.

”My, who was that?”

”Orlando,” Karl answered with a smile, ”I’ve watched that boy grow up. A street Kitten with claws. You made quite an impression on him.”

”I hope so, I don’t want him lifting my pockets when I do have something in them.” But he was smiling as he said it, he had a feeling he would meet up with the young Orlando again. His eyes watched the young man’s retreating back until he couldn’t see it anymore. And then his eyes fell on something before him that he hadn’t taken much notice of before. The Slave Auctions.

He had not paid them any notice before, but now, as drew closer, his eyes roamed the stage. They fell on the current slave being sold. The woman was having a hard time passing him off for just his hard body. Her fingers gripped the silky blonde hair on his head, lifting it, trying to sell his exotic pale looks to these people.

Viggo’s heart stopped and shattered at the sight of the broken man. Of his best friend. Of dusty and dirty Sean.


	10. Chapter 10

X  
by Beryll

Karl's eyes were still on the dark haired head of Orlando disappearing among the people crowding the market when he more felt than saw Viggo move abruptly in the direction of the slave block. His hand shot out instinctively to hold the prince back, but met unanticipated resistance.

There was deep pain in the stormy eyes of Viggo when they met Karl's. Pain that had not been there a moment ago and his smile had likewise disappeared.

"What is it?" Karl asked gently, but didn't let go of the others arm. He must keep all danger away from his prince, even if it meant holding him back forcefully from a potentially harmful situation. And just walking into the crowd surrounding the slave block certainly qualified as such.

Viggo's eyes turned back to the stage and Karl followed his gaze to the slave being presented to the potential buyers. He was naked except for a dirty loincloth. He may have been worth quite some money initially, but whoever had owned him before he came to the block had taken a lot out of his hide. Karl did not shy from punishing disobedient slaves, but the marks of the whip were not the only evidence of the harsh treatment he had received. There were cuts and burn-mark and barely healed deeper wounds that bore witness to the cruelty of his previous owner.

Still he held his head high, snarling at the two guards who kept him in his kneeling position. The fire in his green eyes gave Karl pause. It was dangerous - wild, very close to the edge of madness. Whatever had been done to this man, it had come very close to breaking him. The defiance in his face was only a thin sheen over despair and bone deep exhaustion. Still there was enough fight left in him to keep him interesting. His exotic pale skin, his fair blonde hair and startling green eyes, all that still showed enough beauty to make him sellable. 

Although Karl was fairly certain that his next master would make sure he was either completely broken or killed. He knew both men who were bidding for him. Both liked their bed slaves angry and difficult to tame. Some survived and were resold as well trained pleasure toys, most died.

It must be difficult for Viggo to adjust to see idea of humans being sold like cattle, as this was not custom in his home country. But he would have to get used to the idea.

But the princes next words surprised him again. "I know this man." he said. "Do you remember the friend of childhood days I told you about? It is him."

Karl looked at the slave again and tried to find in him the image Viggo had conjured for him. The image of a proud warrior, serving his friend and liege with his sword and wits and heart. Much as he himself tried to serve Viggo now. It came easily. The way the man squared his shoulders against the hold of his captors, how he glared at the crowd, daring them to actually buy him, intimidating most of them with his sheer ferocity. All that spoke of a man not used to kneeling to anybody unless he chose to do so. And Karl's own warrior's heart went out to him, resonating with the outrage of a good man brought low like this.

"I have to help him, Karl." Viggo brought him out of his thoughts. "Had you not found me, that could be me up there. I have to buy him free. I can't allow..."

"No, Princeling." Karl stopped him with an upraised hand. Viggo started to protest but Karl continued quickly. "You can not go there, showing everybody how much you care about this man. It will make you vulnerable to anybody who might notice your closeness. And it will just drive up the price. I will go and buy him for you. That will not raise suspicion. You go home. I will bring him to you."

Viggo tensed for a moment as if preparing to argue, but then he nodded stiffly. "Your advise is sound."  
He agreed. "But please make sure he does not come to further harm."

"I will, my prince." Karl bowed deeply and watched for a moment as Viggo retreated with his guards. Only two of them stayed with Karl. The bidding was slowing down already, both potential buyers now weighing carefully if the slave was worth their next bid.

Karl turned around and strode towards the stage, calling out a bid topping the present one by just a little. It wouldn't do to show too much interest. It was not the first time he bought a handsome warrior to serve him in bed, so none of the spectators were overly surprised. Only he tended to free the slaves he bought sooner or later and give them a place in the guard of the Caliph. Some of his most loyal men had come into the Caliph's service like this.

The slave could not know that of course, so Karl almost recoiled from the hatred suddenly directed at him, when the man's eyes fixed on him. Maybe it was a good thing he was not buying this one for himself. There was a good chance he would kill his next master. Although that hopefully did not apply for Viggo.

And then maybe... Karl was now standing right in front of the stage and had a much better view of the slave. From afar he had only been able to guess, but now up close he was able to marvel at the firm muscles and well proportioned limbs of this friend of his prince. What would it feel like to run fingers through that fair hair? To caress the pale skin that showed as many scars of past battles as his own? What would these emerald eyes look like when they were blazing with a different passion. 

Heat started to build in Karl's groin and it must have shown in his eyes, for the slave's eyes suddenly  
showed just a hint of fear quickly suppressed. And then he actually spat in Karl's direction.

His futile action of defiance was greeted with laughter from the spectators and a hard cuff to his head from one of the guards holding him down.

"It would seem you are not to his liking, Captain!" one of the two other bidders called, half laughing himself. "Would you like me to lend him to you when he is sufficiently broken in?"

It took Karl all strength of his will not to hit the other man straight in the face. How dare he treat another warrior like this? But he kept his calm.

"I would rather ride this mare myself until it has learned its place!" He answered just as cheerful and was answered by more laughter and another killing stare by the slave.

The bidding went on for a little while, friendly insults being traded between the three men interested, but in the end it of course became clear that the two others were not willing to pay as much as Karl was. 

To gain this man for the prince, Karl would have gone a lot higher in his bidding, but even to gain this slave for his own bed - had this been possible - he would have paid quite a bit more. The longer he watched him, the more his interest in the man sparked. Maybe there would be time to explore possibilities when they were safely back in the palace without prying ears. Maybe the man would be more inclined when he realized that he had not been bought but saved.

But first they had to get there.

"Would you like to keep the chains?" the woman conducting the auction asked him when he handed her the money.

Her two guards were standing behind her, holding the slave. His hands were bound tightly behind his back and there was a longer chain connecting his ankles, making it impossible for him to run. And there was bloody murder in his eyes.

"Most certainly." Karl replied to the woman's question. "I want to enjoy him, not have to kill him in the street." He handed her some extra coins for the chains and she bowed deeply, gesturing for the guards to turn the slave over to the two men accompanying Karl.

"You will not enjoy owning me," the slave hissed when he passed Karl. "I will kill you."

His voice was raw with physical and emotional pain but still it was so sexy it went right to Karl's cock. Without thinking, he grabbed the slave by his hair, pulled him close and kissed him violently.

Only when his wits resurfaced did he realize what he had done. He let go of the man as if he had burned his hand on his hair and for a long moment they stared at each other, one full of hatred, the other filled with regret.

Then Karl spun on his heel and made his way back to the palace, trusting his men to drag the slave along. He had a feeling that he would come to pay for taking that kiss sooner or later. But damn him, it still tasted sweet on his lips and he dearly hoped it would not remain the only one.


	11. Chapter 11

XI  
by Liz & Beryll

Sean stared after the man who had just bought him, eyes narrowed hatefully even as he tried to calm his racing heartbeat. With two guards keeping a firm grip on him and a market full of probably hostile people he had no chance to fight. Not now. Still the urge to tear himself lose, to fight against impossible odds was nearly too strong. Death seemed like a welcome release by now. It was only a shred of reason holding him back.

Forcefully he bend his thoughts on his new owner. The man was a warrior, no doubt of that, and he had been addressed as "Captain." 

Sean hands balled to hard fists. He would not be used again, he silently swore. He would sooner die.

As he was shoved forward roughly, he turned his head, snarling at the guard who had pushed him. "Touch me again, I will feed you your heart." He felt a flash of smug pride at the fear that briefly passed across the guard's dark eyes. 

They marched him through the city, vigilant and alert for any attempt at escape on his part. Good men, a remote part of his mind noted, well trained. It wasn't a long walk but it showed Sean very clearly the limits of his current state. By the time he was pushed through the high arch leading to the palace he was stumbling, his legs refusing to carry him one step further. The cool shade of the palace seemed like a blessed sanctuary but it also reminded Sean of another cool place that he desperately tried to block from his mind.

The way through the high corridors barely registered, dread and exhaustion fighting over who would claim him.

Then they reached the Captain's quarters and Sean again faced his new owner.

"Leave him." The Captain ordered and the men hastened to obey, backing from the room. 

Sean eyed his new master with weary hatred. He was too weak to fight, he knew that. "I am no one's slave." he said, his voice low and dangerous, eyes smoldering. "I am Captain of The Guard for..."

"His Highness Prince Viggo, once of Denmark, now of Aqaba." The Captain finished for Sean, hiding a smile at the surprise in the slave's face. 

To Sean it felt as if the world turned upside down. "Viggo?" he whispered, barely able to believe. "He is here? And well?"

"Yes, Captain. And he wished to buy you, but it would not do for a prince to buy a slave, especially not one he so obviously knows and holds in high regard." The Captain moved towards Sean slowly, holding out the key for the chains. "I am Karl." He added.

"Sean." Sean replied quietly, snatching the key and quickly unlocking the chains from his wrists and ankles. He did not trust this man, not at all. The memory of that kiss in the market was still too fresh, too raw. It burned his lips with the shame of helplessness. And until he had seen his Prince Karl's words were no more than that.

"Let me see my Prince." He demanded coolly.

Karl eyed him with a strange expression that could have been pity or something entirely else. Surely it wasn't pity. This man was not to be trusted. 

"You should rest." The Captain tried to deter him.

"No." Sean shook his head. "I *must* see that my Prince is safe and well before I can rest." And that it's not some pretty lie you have devised to buy my good behavior, he added in his mind.

"Very well. This way." Karl motioned for Sean to follow him.

Another walk, Sean thought despairingly. Grimly he stalked after Karl, determined not to show weakness. Still his steps grew more and more halting. It rankled deeply when Karl's hand steadied him, keeping him from falling but he had to accept it. He was barely able to stay on his feet when they reached another arch leading off the corridor.

"Princeling, I have brought him, as I said I would." The Captain announced.

Sean stepped in behind Karl, his eyes scanning the room. When they came to rest on the man he had followed through what seemed to be half the world his steely tension finally relaxed.

"Viggo." He breathed, thankful his friend and prince was safe.


	12. Chapter 12

XII  
by Mel

Viggo had pretty much allowed himself to be led back to the palace. He was a little unsteady on his feet, he still could not believe that had really and truly been Sean, even though he would know those wild green eyes anywhere. He was here, and in so much pain, and Karl had not let him catch him. Anger coursed through his veins for a moment, Sean was his best friend, closer then any brother, and he had not been allowed to go up there and catch him?

The anger left quickly, he knew why it had been done. He was a prince, even before he had come here. Showing an active interest in slaves was simply not done. But how he had just wanted to go up there and take him away from it all.

By the time Viggo arrived back at his rooms, dismissing the guard, he had run himself around in circles. Between wishing he had gone to Sean's rescue like a knight in shinning armor and trying to realize what was expected of him in this new role he could have gladly gone too sleep. There was, however, too much daylight left and he knew from past experience, that sleep would elude him tonight. He would just have to wait for Karl to bring Sean to him.

When he entered his courtyard he was surprised to find the place full of women. They were cleaning, one was pouring a soft spicy scent into his fountain, lifting the room with it's delightful smell. They twittered around, moving with such grace that Viggo would have never been able to compete with. They became silent as they realized that Viggo stood there, watching them.

He smiled, their eyes lighting up at the sight. "Thank you." He told them, "this looks much more like a home now."

The women giggled ad dashed around him, silk flying until only one other was left in the room with him.

"You have made a grand impression on the workers of this household my Lord," Liv had that ever present and cheeky smile on her face. "They sing your praises longer and louder with every moment that passes."

Viggo grimaced before coming further into the room, "you know I am not asking for it Liv."

"I know," that smile seemed to get brighter, "that is what makes you so much more endearing. If you are finished with me my Lord-"

"Liv?" The sound of his voice stopped her in her trek across the room. She looked at him, her head falling to the side, the curtain of her dark hair floating down over the silk. "What sort of slaves can I own?"

She looked intrigued by the question. "Most Lords own personal slaves, labor and household slaves come with your inheritance my Prince. Many Lords have there own harems for their personal slaves, both men and women. Why do you ask my Lord? Do you wish to start one?"

He didn't answer, instead asking his second question. "If I were to buy a slave, could I release him?"

Liv managed to look even more interested, though she answered, "not without looking weak. Slaves are slaves among the men you will meet. Though most are treated well nobles believe that acquiring them simply to free them is a sign of weakness. Slaves must earn their freedom. I was once a slave, as was much of Karl's guard. We are loyal because, we were treated well, and when it came the time we were allowed to become our own while still working for both the Caliph and Karl. It will be much the same with you I would wager, though it is a little early in your stay to be buying slaves."

Viggo smiled. "Thank you Liv," he let the new information wash over him, nodding. "That was all I wanted to know."

********

"He took that much better then I had expected," Karl's voice was soft as the two walked, side-by-side, in the streets of Aqaba, the small entourage of men trailing behind them. "He truly came through the desert a little worse then you did, Princeling."

Viggo nodded, a soft smile dancing along his features. "Sean was always a survivor Karl, he would fight through just about anything. He was always stubborn." There was a soft pause and Viggo ducked his head. "And I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

"You are welcome, Princeling. I am more then happy to take your friend into my service for a time. Until you figure out what you are going to do with him."

Another nod and smile. "I'm glad he was too tired to argue, it will be good for him to rest. And we will have time to buy him clothes."

Karl, who had purchased Viggo's own clothing while he had recovered, led him purposely through the market place. That was until a furious shout near by drew the Prince's attention away from their path.

He was surprise to see young Orlando, one hand cupped to his chest full of bread, the other being held by a heavy set Aqaba merchant. The fury in the bigger man's eyes was obviously what had the younger man trying to struggle free from his hold.

"Karl!" Viggo's voice called softly, bring the captain to his side.

"Oh Orlando," the regret in Karl's voice was rather heavy.

"Is there nothing we can do?"

"No," the defeated word hung between them. "The laws are simple, he will loose his hand for being caught stealing."

"Filthy Thief," the merchant hissed as Orlando tried to pull his hand free of his.

It would not budge, the man held on much too strongly. This was not how he wanted his day to end. He had things he wanted to do with this hand and he was amazingly attached to it. He wanted to be able to use it tomorrow, to hold a meal with it, to slip into a pocket or two. Maybe in his dreams to slip it beneath the robes of a certain man, running over hard planes of flesh. Orlando fought not to loose his carefully maintained calm, but as the big man drew him towards the stall, slamming his arm down, pinning it in place.

This could not be happening. His eyes widened at the sight of the blade that rose in the man's hand. He'd always sworn that would never be him, that he would never get caught, and that it would never loose his hand like so many others had. The blood echoed in his ears, the resound sound making him panic. Please no, the whimper falling from his lips, not now.

"What do you think you are doing?"

The furious voice rose over the pounding blood in his ears and both he and the man with the knife froze. Orlando, brown eyes wide stared as a rather irate looking Prince. He stalked, still in white silk, his hood down and dark hair flowing behind him. He was the most wild, majestic thing Orlando had seen in his whole life and he felt his heart rate accelerate for a completely different reason.

"My Prince," the words were whispered without any participation of Orlando. He had never been so enchanted with one person. The prince ignored him, for that Orlando was glad as those blazing eyes were fixed on the merchant.

"My Lord," the merchant's death grip on Orlando's arm did not slacken and he looked rather confused at this turn of events. "It's Aqaba's law," his eyes sparkled at the thought and Orlando squirmed, "thieves lose a hand."

"Thieves yes," the Prince's hand clasped Orlando's shoulder and he found himself leaning into the touch. What was wrong with him? He had barely known this incredible man a day and he was already singing his praises. "But not personal slaves."

The merchant seemed almost as awe struck as Orlando did, except the dark haired man was better at hiding it. That and the fact that the Prince's hand moved from his shoulder, the knuckles grazing the flesh of his cheeks. And, damn it all, Orlando found himself leaning into it, letting the light touch become a caress. The Prince continued to stare at the merchant, who was spluttering, and Orlando allowed his eyes to drift close.

"Kindly let him go." The merchant seemed to pause just a little too long for the Prince. "Now!"

He dropped the hand as if it were a snake and Orlando let it fall to his side, exposing his neck to the Prince as the fingers ran down the side of his throat, the curve of his shoulder and gliding down until his fingers interlaced with Orlando's. He opened those eyes, staring at their linked fingers, his own bronze and the prince' s pale. And those fine fingers took his chin lightly, lifting it up, until they were swimming in heavy blue eyes.

And they were the last thing Orlando saw before soft lips descended down onto his, sucking the very soul out of his body. Orlando found himself boneless, melting into the touch, the feel the very life of this man above him. He was falling, falling so incredibly fast that the loaf of bread left his hand without a care, twining into the long locks above him, kneading the scalp.

The need to breathe soon became apparent as the Prince pulled back, Orlando's soft gasp fell sweetly, mingling in the air around them. The Prince's possessive purr went straight to Orlando's groin and he could only find the energy to smile cheekily at the man above him, his tongue ghosting against his lips as he pressed his body flush against the Prince's. He was no stranger to the effect his body had on men and women and he was more then willing to see what the other man would do about it.

It didn't take long for the Prince to react and his arms caught him up, cradling Orlando to his chest. Orlando could not have been more surprised. He never felt this cherished, this wanted and this man barely knew him.

The Prince was walking out of the crowd that parted before him. Orlando wrapped his arms securely around his neck, burrowing deeper into his hold. He noticed Karl ahead, arms crossed over his chest though his smile seemed to warring between relief, warmth and, strangely enough, lust.

"Would you pay this gentleman for the bread Karl? I will see you back at the palace," the Prince's voice was heavy with passion, making Orlando squirm.

"Of course my Lord Viggo. It is a good thing Sean is resting in my rooms," Karl sounded amused as they passed. "Do not get your fingers burnt."

"Oh do not worry Karl," he purred, "I am the one doing the burning." And somehow his lips managed to capture Orlando's again whilst he was still moving. Orlando clung even tighter to him, loosing himself in the amazing touch. He longed to touch him, run his fingers over the expanse of pale Northern flesh that he knew would be beneath the silk, but was content for now to let the kiss overwhelm him. Their lips danced against each other, tongues teasing. He hoped the palace was not too far away.

He felt rather the saw the change as they moved inside as he was still snuggled up to his Lord's chest. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins had faded, leaving him completely drained. He did not even have the energy to wonder when he had started to think of the man holding him as his own. Instead Orlando let one of his hands glide down from around his Prince's neck, letting it snake between the layers of silk, brushing it against a pebbling nipple, listening to his replying gasp. The pace quickened as Orlando's lips found the racing pulse in his throat.

Sweet shade sheltered them from the sun and Orlando finally allowed his eyes to peek out around them. The Palace was truly a place of wonder, though they were in a shaded hallway Orlando could see they passed rooms of wonder he might never see again in all his life. Unless he truly wanted to keep him as his personal slave. At the moment Orlando rather enjoyed the idea.

The Prince turned suddenly and Orlando looked around the open courtyard in wonder. At the fountain in the middle, the vines hanging from the walls and the heavy scent of incense in the air. They did not stay here for long and the Prince was moving quickly through the beaded archway on the left. And Orlando's eyes almost fell out of his head.

The room was closed off to the outside world and amazingly cool for its large space. And yet it glowed with the flickering of a thousand candles in alcoves in the stonewalls. Cushions were strewn around the room, silk and fur blankets scattered with them. The pallet in the center of the room was large enough to sleep five people comfortably, and ten intimately, covered with rich dark silks and thick furs.

It was here that the Prince threw his body, surprising Orlando with the harsh action. He landed in the middle of it, his body sinking in the softness of it all. Orlando barely had time to scurry up the bed as the Prince, with panther like grace, was upon him, his large warrior body tenting over top of him. His hands were either side of Orlando's head and for the first time Orlando realized, that if he were to suddenly to turn violent, Orlando would not be able to fight against this man who was a trained warrior. His form shuddered as a tremor of fear flew through him.

And then the long hair that had obscured his face from Orlando's view parted and he could see the pain, worry and gut wrenching fear in his blue eyes.

"What if I had not been able to help you?" So much raw emotion filled that simple question, making his voice deep and husky, breaking Orlando's calm and heart all at once. His hands threaded themselves in the hair at his scalp, pulling his face down to him. "What if I had not been there?" the anguish breathed against his lips.

"But you were there, my Shining Prince," Orlando whispered, teasingly close. "And I am not leaving your side anytime soon."

"No," the voice turned firm and the sparkle returned to the eyes, "you most certainly are not." And then he pressed his mouth down into his, sinking into the Orlando, letting the hands make quick work of the silk that shrouded him.

Orlando made soft cooing noises at the sight of the blistered skin of the Prince's arms that were bared to him. "You truly did fight the Au Nafud, my Lord?"

He hissed lightly, "make me forget my pain?"

Orlando's smile chased away the remaining ghosts in his eyes. "My pleasure, my Prince." His body squirming and slipping out from beneath his hold. He groaned above him as those full, smirking lips wrapped around his already weeping arousal. The breath screamed out of his body, leaving his body trembling as Orlando's tongue swirled, taking him deeper into his throat.

"Orlando," he whimpered, eyes closing in bliss and he allowed the hands to press him down into the soft bedding. Hands eased themselves around Orlando's scalp, not pushing but gently urging him further down. Orlando happily obliged, his throat opening, taking the cock as far as he could, his noes brushing against the stomach.

The soft whimpers became steady moans as his fingers with slight nails grazed against the sensitive flesh of his balls. Teeth scrapped lightly against him, causing the prince to howl as he took him deep again, sucking hard. His name became a prayer on the Prince's lips and he let his tongue run against the underside of the cock in his mouth.

He could feel him coming close and dug his nails into the soft skin of his thighs bringing him screaming over the edge, the sound ending in a moan. Orlando swallowed his essence, milking him of it, rolling the taste around his mouth before licking his lips and easing back up the prince's body.

The man's eyes were half lidded and Orlando could tell he was struggling to stay awake, to please him. Orlando was touched but battered the hands away that tried to touch him. Instead he snuggled up to his chest, allowing the arms to cocoon him.

"Sleep now, my Prince, there will be plenty of time for that when you are rested," Orlando whispered, his fingers brushing back a strand of his hair.

He nodded softly, eyes giving in to their need to rest, "and my name is Viggo, please."

Orlando smiled, pressing his lips in a gentle kiss to his forehead, "very well my Lord Viggo, now sleep." And he did, his arms curled around Orlando and the sound of his gentle breathing lulling the street kitten to his own rest.


	13. Chapter 13

XIII  
by Beryll

The soft sounds of late evening filled the palace when Karl returned to it several hours later than the prince. The endless whispers of a place with breathing people, the soft laughter of the servants that had finished with theirs days work and now went about their own business, the singing of birds that slept through the hot days and filled the nights with their harmonies, the regular calls of guards letting each other know that everything was as it should be.

Years of training would have allowed Karl to detect any disturbance to this sound-scape but there was none. The palace was peaceful as it had not been for a long time. The immediate fear for the well-being of the Caliph's children had past for now. No attempt at them had been made since the Caliph had named prince Viggo his son. Whoever was behind the attempts clearly needed time to adjust and conceive of new strategies. 

Karl was grateful for the respite but on this evening, as he passed the gates and nodded greetings to the two men standing guard, a strange uneasiness would not leave him.

Business in the city had kept him longer then he had expected. There always were things to take care of and he was well known for his patience with all the little grievances with the worries of the citizens of Aqaba. 

With a small smile he thought back on his conservation with the poor merchant, who had been near scared to death by the sudden appearance of prince Viggo, demanding his slave be released. Karl had been as surprised at Viggo's action as the merchant. Never would it have occurred to him to intervene in a manner such as this.

But Viggo had saved the little street-kitten from loosing his hand and Karl felt surprisingly grateful for this. But it was also the rout of his uneasiness. He was sure, that Viggo would not hurt the boy. Should be sure. Should not even waste a thought on the little minx. But still his thoughts kept returning to the terror on Orlando's face, when the merchant had raised his blade to cut off the offending hand.

He had watched the boy grow up from a scrawny, dirty child to a quite handsome dirty young man. And until this afternoon he had not even realized that he had always kept more than one eye on his well-being. 

Occasions came back to him now, that he had all but forgotten. Times when he had just conveniently stood in the way of people chasing the boy, allowing him to escape. Times when Orlando had still been small, when Karl had stopped him from stealing from those who would have caught him right away and instead tossed him a coin so he could quench his hunger. 

And one incident, only half a year ago. When he had overheard two slave-traders discuss catching the lithe youth to 'put him to better use'. They had left Aqaba the next morning after receiving a polite but very strict order from the city guard to do so. The little thief had never even learned of the danger he had been in.

And now he had ended up being a slave after all. Although Karl was not quite sure Orlando had realized that yet. The boy had looked completely dazed at the attention of the prince and even as Karl thought this he felt that twinge of unease again. Could it be that he was jealous of the prince? Improbable. But not altogether impossible.

He stopped in front of his own chambers and brushed some of his braids from his face. Time to face a different problem. And one much more threatening.

Karl had sent the clothing he had bought for his own 'new slave' ahead to his quarters, when he had realized that he would not be back in time to greet Sean when the man woke up. Still now he hoped against hope that the warrior would still be asleep, sparing him this confrontation when he was already confused with his own feelings.

He opened the door and silently stepped inside. When had been the last time he had sneaked into his own quarters? A long time ago for sure.

One look was enough to show him that the low divan where Sean had be sleeping when Karl left with the prince was now empty. For a long moment Karl feared that his unwilling guest may have done something foolish, but then he heard the pearls of the curtain separating his rooms from the balcony rattle softly and Sean came back into the room.

He had put on the clothes that Viggo had advised Karl to buy and again the Captain of the guard felt a shiver run through his body and heat gathering. Karl would have purchased the flowing clothes he favored himself but Viggo had told him he would never get a warrior like Sean into these kind of attire. Instead they had bought tight leggings of soft leather with matching boots and a cream colored long-sleeved shirt. 

Viggo had been right. These clothes even enhanced the exotic beauty of the man and every thought of Orlando suddenly fled Karl's mind, presented with the problem of keeping his hands off this exceptional specimen of man that was so tantalizingly available.

'He is my slave, I paid good money for him. Why not use him?' a sneaky little voice whispered inside of his head but Karl ruthlessly shoved it down to the depth from where it had come.

Thankfully his guest had only just now noticed him and not observed the flash of longing in his eyes. Still he studied Karl with a healthy dose of distrust.

"Are you feeling better?" Karl asked politely, forcing any betraying emotion out of his voice. He had made sure that Sean's wounds and sunburns had been cared for while he was gone.

"As to be expected." Sean answered. "It will take a while but my wounds will heal."

Yes, but what of your other wounds, Karl thought. What of the things surely forced on a man as beautiful as you? What of your pride? But he kept his tongue. That was not for him to care for, but for the prince.

But there were things that needed to be addressed now. "I am sorry that you will have to stay with me a while." Karl started carefully, watching for signs of anger on the other warriors face. He was not disappointed as Sean's brows drew together almost instantly but he listened.

"We are a people of many social rules that may seem strange to you till you have gotten used to them more. To give you to the prince now would shame both me and him and to set you free would be seen as weakness. We just have to wait a while. But till then we all have to pretend that you are indeed my slave when strangers are present."

A harsh laugh was the answer from Sean. "And surely sorry you are for it." he said, anger in his voice. "I clearly recall your words. 'Ride this mare till it has learned it's place'?"

Karl cursed himself for his bantering with the other buyers at the slave market. But he was expected to behave like it. "That was for show." he tried to explain. "I certainly don't intent to do anything like that."

"Is that so?" Sean stepped closer to him and Karl felt all to revealing heat rise in his body and to his face. And this time it did not escape Sean's notice either. "And what about that kiss?" he hissed. "Was that for show as well?"

Karl found himself almost nose to nose with the other man and fought the urge to grab him again with all his will. He searched for an answer... any answer but this tongue suddenly seemed stuck in his mouth. He saw all the pain and humiliation of captivity reflect in Sean's eyes and did the only save thing. He spun on his heel and fled his own quarters.

Karl let his feet carry him where they would. His thoughts kept returning to the warrior who would be sharing his quarters for at least the next weeks and he fairly despaired at that idea. How was he going to manage to preserve both their honor when his fingers were itching even now to touch where they were unwanted?

He was not really surprised when he found himself in front of the entrance to the prince's chambers. 

He nodded to the two men guarding the entrance and entered. It did not even occur to him to ask if prince Viggo was home. His eyes searched the small courtyard with the fountain but found it undisturbed and silent. Maybe the prince was already asleep? But even then it would not hurt to check on him. Karl knew he would rest easier when he had seen with his own eyes that the prince was fine.

He quietly slipped through the curtain closing the prince's private rooms off from the courtyard. Only when he saw the slim, sleeping figure, half buried under a heap of pillows did he realize why he had really walked in here.

The street kitten lay on the divan, his lean, dirty limbs curled against his body, one pillow possessively clutched against his chest, a happy smile on his beautiful lips even in sleep. And he was all alone.

Karl frowned slightly when he noticed that the kitten wore only his ripped and dirty tunic, his pants discarded and lying next to the divan. Again jealously stirred in his heart.

Then he shook his head, a bemused smile appearing in his lips. He would really have to stop envying the prince of his lovers. He had no right to. Prince Viggo had saved Orlando from loosing his hand and he had every right to claim a reward for that. And Karl would not allow his desire to interfere with his loyalty to the prince.

Still he felt the urge to make sure that the boy was all right. He sat down on the divan next to the sleeping thief and gently stroked one small dirty foot, poking out from under another pillow. The toes wriggled slightly in response and moments later sleepy brown eyes opened to gaze at him uncomprehending.

But then the quick mind returned and Orlando quickly scrambled backward. "I didn't touch anything, I swear!" he proclaimed, still clutching the pillow, his eyes darting around the room searching for a route of escape.

Karl smiled. If there was any proof needed that the boy was well this was it. 

"Had I not found you asleep, I would doubt that." he said. "But as it is I am inclined to for once believe that."

Orlando eyed him suspiciously but relaxed slightly. Then his eyes searched the room anew. "Where is the prince?" he asked curiously.

Karl shrugged. "I don't know. I came by to talk to him and found you." Again his hand sneaked out, softly caressing that dirty foot. "Are you okay?"

"I... uhm..." Heat rose into the youth face and he clutched the pillow even tighter. He looked at Karl with something close to panic. "They would have cut off my hand, wouldn't they?"

Karl nodded and very suddenly found his arms full of the trembling form of one sobbing street kitten. "Oh Karl," the boy managed to get out between sobs, "I was so scared."

The Captain looked at him with a bit of healthy suspicion to make sure we was not just putting on a show, but the tears making clean streaks in his dirty face and the arms wrapped tightly around Karl, begging for comfort were to tense to be pretense.

He stroked the back of the young man and murmured soothing words, till Orlando quieted down a bit. Still the kitten clung to him like he had held on to the pillow before.

"Don't worry, little one." Karl whispered softly. "You're safe now." At least from that merchant, he added in his thoughts, I can not say how safe you are from me if you keep on clinging to me like that.

He tried to push the boy away a bit to help him regain his composure but was surprised again, when Orlando tilted his sweet face upward to him in the cutest way he had ever seen and then slowly let his eyes drift shut and his lips closer to Karl's. There was really nothing else Karl could have done but kiss him. So he did.

The lips he tasted were as sweet as he would have expected them to be and when he tentatively pushed against them with his tongue they parted willingly, allowing him access to an even sweeter mouth. A mouth to sink into loosing all coherence of thought.

He felt the boys hands rise to his chest and for a moment he was sure Orlando would push him away but instead those hands started to seek a way under his own tunic, tugging here, sneaking there with all the skill of an experienced pick-pocket. The little minx!

Karl smiled into their kiss, raising a hand to the boys cheek, caressing him. He was about to gently push the boy back to the divan, when a soft coughing caught both their attention and they broke apart, to see who was intruding.

Orlando immediately flushed crimson and scrambled back on the divan while Karl jumped away from him almost falling over his own feet when he noticed prince Viggo leaning against the arc from the courtyard. 

Only the wry smile on the lips of the prince kept him from falling to his knees immediately. "Far be it from my mind to interrupt the two of you," he said, "but I would like a word with you in private, Captain."

Cold dread clenched his heart but Karl nodded. How could he betray his prince like this?

Viggo turned to Orlando, smiling at the paled boy. "Go outside. there is a girl waiting for you who will show you to where you can wash and put on other clothes. I will expect you back here in half an hour."

Karl had seen the thief make many escapes before but none had been as fast as this one. Wish he could just have followed him. As it was he faced his Lord, waiting for a verdict on his crime.

"Karl, would you stop looking like you committed a murder?" Viggo said to his surprise. "I am not angry with you or the boy."

The Captain of the guard gapped at him open-mouthed. "But... I..."

The prince shook his head, finally stepping into the room. "I have seen how close the boy is to your heart. Do you really expect me to be angry when you follow that heart, that has saved my life as well?" He grabbed Karl's shoulder squeezing tightly. "I consider you my friend and I hope you will see me as this as well. You have guarded my back ever since I awoke in this palace and I trust you completely. I would not that this boy, however cute, comes between our friendship."

Viggo turned his head to look at the doorway through which Orlando had disappeared. "Though I have to say he is something." he added with a decidedly dirty grin. "I think he will be a handful for the both of us even if we share, don't you think?"

A relieved laugh escaped Karl. No outcome of this conversation he could have envisioned could have been as good as this one. "I must agree, Princeling." he said, accepting the warrior's handshake of his Lord. "He will be more than enough trouble for both of us to deal with."


	14. Chapter 14

XIV  
by Liz & Beryll

Sean paced Karl's quarters, absently scratching through his shirt at the new, pink flesh knitting the whip scars on his upper arms. They were healing nicely, thanks to the balm, but the were other scars… no - open wounds - and they refused to heal.

He closed his eyes. He was safe now, he told himself, but it did not help. Safety meant time to think. Time to think brought the realization that he had failed. Failed to fight as hard as he should have. Failed to protect his honor, his integrity. That he had begged. That pain and humiliation had reduced him to the state of an animal. That they had indeed made him a slave.

But they had not broken him, Sean thought, his fists clenching in determination, he would not break. Not now. Not for them and not for his 'new `master'.

Karl. The thought of the man who owned him made his blood run cold with fear and hot with anger. He will not touch me ever again, Sean thought furiously. I will never submit to him, not in public as he claims I must, and certainly never here, in private.

He's taking your place at your Prince's side, Sean's inner voice stated harshly. Same old Sean or new, exciting Karl – if you were Viggo, which would you choose…? And why would his Prince still have a use for him at all? He was soiled, weak, useless. He was not fit to call himself Viggo's protector when he wasn't even able to protect himself.

Karl chose that moment to enter his quarters. When the Captain turned to look at Sean, the unfulfilled lust in his eyes and kiss-swollen lips told Sean that SOMETHING had happened. But who with? Viggo? Rage bubbled up in Sean's pounding blood, and he could do nothing but stare hard at Karl.

"Sean – "

The blond had no idea his simple name could be infused with so much longing and hunger, but Karl's breathless pronunciation contained desire beyond measure. Briefly stunned, Sean merely watched as Karl crossed the tiled floor to him, all flowing robes, and took Sean's face between his hands for a thorough kiss. He was frozen in helpless fear as Karl's hot tongue demanded entry, and Sean mindlessly parted his lips to taste Karl. He only managed a breathless whimper of despair when Karl ground his hard cock against him. No, his mind and heart screamed, but his body was unable to react. When Karl pulled back, though, Sean's mind snapped to attention. He did the first thing that instinct told him to do.

He punched Karl.

Reeling, Karl toppled backwards and hit the floor with a resounding thump. His beautiful, dark face reflected his bewilderment as he looked up at the blond `slave'. "What - ?"

"You're the same as the others," Sean growled, shaking all over from anger. 

His stomach knotted when he realized that he was not only being used, but being used as a substitute for Karl's unsatisfied need. But maybe that shouldn't bother you, his inner voice said; after all what else are you good for? 'My sweet slut' a voice whispered in his mind, rough hands, grabbing at his hair, keeping his head immobile.

"I'll kill you if you touch me again!"

A sweep of Karl's feet at Sean's legs dropped the blond to the floor, but catlike Sean rolled the second he felt the floor and pounced atop Karl, his fist connecting again with the Captain's jaw. He would not submit. Not this time. He would die before Karl did to him what THEY had done.

"Sean! Damn you!" Karl spat out, along with blood. Sean had pinned one of his arms, but Karl was able to get his other hand free and clamp it around Sean's taunt neck. "It's not like that, I'm sorry!"

"I – don't – want – you!" choked Sean, whacking the side of his hand at the inside of Karl's elbow. "Touch – me – again – and – you – will – PAY!" 

A final, violent chop loosened Karl's grip at Sean's neck. Stars swam across Sean's eyes when a knee connected with his groin, and the excruciating pain made Sean topple to the side, letting Karl gain the upper hand. Even over the crushing agony shooting through his balls, Sean could feel Karl's rigid cock as Karl straddled him… and he could feel Karl's dagger. The edge bit into his throat. Mind whirling with ways to disarm the Captain and the mindless fear of what had to be next, Sean barely heard Karl's words.

"You've assaulted the Captain of the Caliph's Guard, Sean." He was so close, warm breath on Sean's face, hazel eyes aflame with scorn and passion. "I could have you killed for that, but I'm sure Prince Viggo wouldn't allow it. And it would be a shame to kill someone such as yourself."

Sean knew it was the wrong thing to ask, he didn't want to hear what he was in the Captain's eyes. "Such as myself?"

Karl's lips came closer. Sean tried to recoil but he had nowhere to go. "Beautiful. Sensual. Perfect. Deadly."

A roar exploded from Sean; his arms shot up to the inside of Karl's, knocking them and the blade akimbo, sending the steel skittering across the tiles – but not before blood bloomed at the base of Sean's throat. A minute amount, from barely a scratch, but it was enough to push the blond to the very edge of a berserk rage. He hauled Karl to his feet, only to knock him to the floor again with a well-timed punch to the jaw. 

"DON'T YOU EVER…!" Sean bellowed, pointing a firm finger at Karl.

Then he stumbled backwards. Karl staggered to his feet, retrieving his dagger as he stood. Flashing eyes met Sean's; then it seemed Karl decided the fight was over. The Captain stormed from his quarters without another word, without another look at the blond `slave'. The moment the door clicked shut, Sean slumped onto the divan. 

He was cold with dread. Too many memories. Too much that threatened to swallow him up. Too much locked inside that was eating his courage and reason. He would break. Soon.


	15. Chapter 15

XV  
by Mel

A young woman whose name was Nada took Orlando in the hand. She was adorable, her long dark hair pulled back from her sweet face, barely a child, and flittered around Orlando as if she were a nighttime breeze carrying the scent of the desert with her. Orlando had never bathed before, it was a pastime favoured by the rich and well to do. To use water in such a fashion was not even thought of by one who lived in such an arid landscape.

When Nada came at him with a cloth dipped in water from the basin, Orlando pulled back and away from her. The girl soothed him quickly, making soft noises that calmed Orlando. She showed him how to wash, the sweet scent of the water mixed with fragrant soap filling his nostrils as the soap began to lather against his skin. Nada scrubbed his back, giggling as he purred. Would his Prince's hands bathing him be this soft? Orlando didn't think so, he thought they'd be strong and soothing. And would Karl's be the same?

Orlando very quickly squashed his rising passion. It would not do to give Nada a fright, though he was more then certain that she would have seen worse as the young girl chattered how she would help bathe the Caliph's guard after a battle. It was entirely innocent, the girl was too young for any guard to look twice, but Orlando was sure she would have seen her fair share of a passion-ridden guard.

They finished quickly, though Orlando decided he'd like to bathe with Viggo or Karl for an extended period, and Nada helped him dry. She showed him some light clothing Viggo had chosen for him and left him to dress. As Orlando dressed he couldn't help but smile. He was happy. Being a street rat was nice enough, he even got on well with most of the merchants he stole from and they usually turned a blind eye as long as he wasn't stealing more then a little food. But Viggo didn't want him to steal, his Prince wanted him and nothing more. It was elating really.

As he finished dressing Orlando's feet began to wander. He wasn't too sure how much longer he had before his Prince wished him back, but he was certain he had enough time to duck down to the market place and let a few friends know where he'd gone.

Orlando didn't make it past grand arch of the palace.

"Hey!" A guard's hand slammed down upon his shoulder. Why was it, whenever he was in the wrong, normally friendly people seemed to become towering ogres? He actually knew this guard, he use to be a stable boy, he too had watched Orlando grow up. "Where are you going, slave?"

The word actually made Orlando pale, his skin going ashen. A slave. He was no longer his own person, he was Viggo's.

The guard already had a firm grip of his arm and was leading him back into the palace before he had a chance to do anything about it. Orlando tried vainly for a moment to struggle but the hand was firm and he seemed unconcerned about the looks they were getting from the other members of the household. The guard didn't exactly drag him, he had a little more decorum then that, but every so often he would look to Orlando, just to be sure he was still following him and not attempting to go in the other direction.

Orlando was lost in his thoughts as the guard took him down the hall. He was no longer his own person. His actions were no longer his own. All were governed by one person, one man. Viggo.

He didn't know wether to kill him or cry. Yes, he wanted to serve his prince, but at the risk of losing himself? Viggo was not going to know what hit him, because Orlando wasn't even sure what he was going to do.

The guard stoped at the doorway, and not unkindly, lightly pushes Orlando inside. Orlando looked at him for a moment and the guard nodded before returning back to his post. Both he and Orlando knew this ass where he belonged now. Orlando couldn't help the slightly desperate sigh that escapes him. He belonged wherever Viggo was. Orlando had never felt so elated, or terrified, by a simple thought as this one.

Viggo was not in the same room Orlando had left. Nor was he in the bathing room. Orlando moved cautiously to the third archway off the lush garden. He hadn't been in here yet, but it seemed bright. Parting the curtain carefully Orlando peeked his head through. What he saw left even him speechless.

This room was longer then the others, but not quite as wide, it gave off the appearance of a large corridor. One side was stonewall with a few weapon racks upon it and Orlando decided quickly that he'd love some inks, to trail lines of colour across the dusky red. The other wall was not a wall but open windows that showed Aqaba in all it's finery and splendour.

And in the centre of the room was Viggo. The prince wore nothing but a pair of loose white pants that hid very little from Orlando's attention. His upper body, free to view, was pale in parts and patched with blistering burns in others. Orlando was certain that he should not be handling a sword in such a manor, considering the burns, but he did. The great weapon caught the last light of the sun streaming into the room, reflecting silver back at him. It fit easily into Viggo's hands and he moved it precisely through a series of movements. It looked like a rather exotic dance that Orlando had never seen, it made his skin flush and his breathing quicken. He burned with the same raw heat that Viggo's aching limbs must.

As Orlando moved into the room his prince spun around, lightening fast, facing him with the raised sword before his form relaxed. Orlando couldn't help but smile and came further in. Visions of just how easily Viggo could have over powered him earlier came back to him. But he hadn't, he had let Orlando do as he wished. The thought of him being equal to Viggo whilst being his slave was soamazing that he could not think on it long. Instead he moved until he was stopped in front of Viggo.

The prince looked at him quizzically, his blue eyes tired as he looked at the younger man before him. Orlando could see the beginnings of the stress that was going to weigh heavily on him begin to show in those bright blue eyes. Reaching out Orlando carefully took the sword from his loose hands, putting it on the racks before silently taking the prince's hands in his own. He led him to the bedroom, his eyes not leaving Viggo's as they walked.

Pushing gently Orlando guided Viggo till he sat on the bed, Orlando between his parted legs. Viggo sighed, hands massaging the line of the younger men's hips. Worry still creased the prince's brow as Orlando let his fingers trail through the long hair. Viggo nuzzled Orlando's belly, breathing in the scent of the desert that surrounded him. He would never tire of the smell of Orlando, or that of Karl. Orlando's was sweet and young as Karl's was spicy and mature.

"I am your slave."

The soft words, spoken with such confusion, made Viggo cringe, burying his face deeper in Orlando's stomach, his arms tightening around him as if he feared the street rat would run. Viggo did not speak, of which Orlando was grateful as it allowed him to continue on uninterrupted, his fingers continuing to run through the fine hair.

"It scares as well as excites me, my Lord. I have always been my own person, I have known nothing else. I have done as I have pleased and survived without anyone." The fingers tightened slightly in the hair and he used it to ease Viggo's face up so they were both staring into each other's eyes. "So why am I willing to give up everything I know, all I am, just to remain with you?"

Viggo smiled slightly, "I am glad you wish to stay, little Kitten. You have enchanted the captain of the guard as much as you have myself." Again he nuzzled at his tummy, seeking and finding skin beneath the light clothing. His tongue traced the flesh, tasting it as Orlando gasped above him. "You are my slave Orlando," the name was purred, rumbling against Orlando who hardened in response. "But only out of necessity, for I would do all I could to keep you from harm."

Orlando grinned, dimpling cheekily. "I love the way you say my name." He lifted Viggo's face to his again, this time to bestow a kiss to his lips. "And I will be your slave for you, my Prince, even if I must simply act it at times. I will do my best for you." Orlando felt giddy at the relieved smile Viggo graced him with. Until he remembered why he had been asked to leave the room to begin with. "You are not angry with Karl are you? It was my fault, my Lord. It was I who-"

"Hush Kitten," Viggo soothed, tugging lightly so the young man was on his lap. "I am not angry with you or with Karl. From what Karl has said he has watched you grow from a child, I find it only natural that there would be such an attraction between the two of you. Just wait until you meet Karl's new slave."

"Karl has rarely taken a slave, and then only man servents," Orlando murmured, making Viggo laugh.

"Jealous, Kitten?" The pout made Viggo laugh some more. "It is I who should be jealous, you and Karl make quite the fetching couple," gentle hands removed Orlando's shirt from his body, enticing a soft moan as Viggo's lips found Orlando's collar. "All dark skin and sinful eyes. Lovely." Another suckle before his blue eyes are boring into Orlando's. "I would share you with him, if that's what you wish."

Orlando's breath caught for a moment before he nodded, leaning forward to kiss his Lord. "Only if I get to have you first."


	16. Chapter 16

XVI  
by Beryll

Rubbing his face with a groan of bone deep tiredness, Karl rose from the narrow cot in the barracks where he had spend the night. Two voices in his mind had debated for a long, long time why he was not returning to his chambers, when he had made a complete tour of the palace ground the last evening to cool his anger and his raging passion.

The answer had been quite simple. Because either he would have killed the blonde exotic beauty waiting there or Sean would have killed him. The emotional turmoil of the day had his blood boiling and there were only two ways to relief that pressure, violence or sex. And none had been conveniently available. 

So he had cooled his head in the breeze of the deepening night, allowing himself the luxury of self-pity. He had even tried to think of Orlando, tried to remind himself that his prince was quite willing to share, that he would sooner or later have those nimble fingers wrapped around his cock, those sweet lips caress him. 

It had worked. For a short while, then a shudder of desire had gripped him when he considered what it might feel like to have Sean's callused hands grab him hard instead. Allah, even fighting with the man was driving him mad with passion. And so far he had managed to thoroughly screw up any chance he might have had to win his trust.

"Captain, audience will begin in half an hour." the soldier who had woken him up reminded him. There was pity in his eyes. He couldn't possibly know why Karl had banned himself from his quarters but all of his men were loyal to their captain to the point of over-protectiveness. And so they were sure that whatever was going on, it couldn't possibly be their captain's fault. If they only knew...

Why on earth had he kissed Sean again? He should be wiser than that. He really should. And still he didn't trust himself to return to his quarters even this morning to get a change of clothes. His fingers were twitching only thinking of the man. This would not do. He would be a nervous wreck in only a couple of days if this continued. He had to find a way to make peace with Sean. And to relieve the pressure that was yet again building in his groin.

Brushing braids from his face, he squared his shoulders and managed something like a smile for the worried soldier. All those things would have to wait till later. Now he had duties with the Caliph.

Firmly fixing his mind on the matters at hand he left the barracks and headed towards the great hall. Important visitors were expected today. Visitors that were potentially dangerous so he would have to take extra precautions to ensure the Caliphs safety.

The envoy from Al Bir was supposed to bring presents. After all his city had been subdued in war only a year ago. Now was the first time they were supposed to pay their taxes and Karl was not as confident as Caliph Hugo that they would do so without pulling any dirty tricks. So he discretely positioned some guards with bows on the balconies overlooking the hall.

He was just done with his preparations when the Caliph already entered the audience hall. He did look much more rested than he had in the last months. Since he had declared Viggo his son only a week ago, there had been no further attempts on the children's lives. Whoever their mystery enemy was, he was obviously making new plans now. Karl swore to himself, that he would not grow lax in his attention, that he would not allow any harm to come to the children or prince Viggo.

He met the Caliph on the steps, leading up to the dais with the throne, bowing deeply.

"You like tired, Karl." Hugo admonished, "You drive yourself too hard."

Karl nodded dutifully, inwardly cringing from the rebuke. If the Caliph knew what had kept his captain awake so long he would not have been as understanding, Karl mused.

"Do get some rest, when this audience is done." Hugo continued and his tone of voice made clear it was not advice but an order. "I'll have some of your own guards escort you to your quarters, if I hear of you spending time outside of them."

Karl swallowed all the comments to that, before they could escape his mouth. Oh, joy, now he really was in trouble. How was he supposed to get through a whole day and night locked up with Sean in one room without eating him alive?

His mind scrambled quickly to come up with a solution, while he took his position to the far left of the dais. Only when prince Viggo entered the hall as well and took his place to right of the throne and leaned down to whisper a question to the Caliph did he come up with an idea. He would simply send Sean to Viggo. And should anybody ask why he did not keep his new toy on his free day he could always say that the prince had expressed interest and that would be the end of that matter.

With a suppressed sigh of relief he surveyed the hall a last time to make sure that everything was in order, then he too turned to face the opening doors.

The envoy from Al Bir entered with the splendor that one would expect from such a rich city state. The war against them had been long and straining but in the end the superior military of Caliph Hugo had prevailed against the hired men of the other ruler.

His ambassador was an old men with the shrewd expression of one well versed in court politics and the amble belly and richly decorated robes to prove that he enjoyed a life in luxury. Karl immediately knew that this one would present threats that the Caliph himself was better prepared to deal with. Threats of a glib tongue and clever words.

He let his gaze drift over the guards accompanying the fat little man and couldn't suppress a smile. They were all of the same height, all dressed in beautifully wrought armor, all looked alike. They made a great display but they held their weapons like children playing at being soldiers. No reason to worry there. Maybe Caliph Hugo had been right, maybe these people really were no threat anymore.

He listened to the pleasantries traded back and forth between the Caliph and the ambassador with only half an ear, thinking on how he would get rid of the beautiful blonde waiting in his chambers as fast as possibly. Maybe if he send Sean to the prince today he could then say that the 'slave' had pleased the prince so well that he had decided to keep him? No, that would be too fast. But maybe Sean would be pacified by spending an afternoon with prince Viggo.

Only when the ambassador announced that he had a very special gift for the Caliph, did his full attention return to the display in front of him. 

The ambassador clapped his fat little hands and the great doors opened again. This time to admit yet another set of guards. These ones less splendidly dressed and in much better shape. But they were not what caught the eye of every single member of court assembled in the hall.

Between them walked a young man who made quite a few men swallow hard and some of the veiled ladies fan themselves. He was of nearly unreal beauty, his skin pale and smooth, hair slightly curled and the color of night, his limbs straight and perfectly formed, dressed in only in silken pantaloons, matching the color of his eyes. And they were what truly made everyone stare. Those big expressive eyes the color of the deepest sea, which were right now blazing with a fury unmatched.

His hands were tied in front of him with beautiful but sturdy silver chains, but he walked with proudly squared shoulder, managing to look down on all the people surrounding him with the most haughty expression. The guards led him in front of the throne and then forced him to his knees, but he refused to bow his head as would have been proper.

"To show his honest and true loyalty, my lord sends his own youngest son Elijah to you!" the ambassador announced. "For your pleasure and amusement to do with as you please."

Karl felt an icy shiver run down his spine when he watched how the young man - no - prince first stared at the ambassador in unabashed hatred and then at Caliph Hugo. 'He could just as well handed him a basket of vipers', Karl thought.

Thankfully the Caliph seemed to think quite the same. For a long moment he looked at the beautiful young prince with an unreadable expression. Then he smiled politely at the ambassador. "We thank you for this magnificent gift. It is a gesture that will be remembered. However, we feel that we will not be able to make as much use of this beauty as he deserves. Therefore we will give him into the younger and stronger hands of our son."

Hugo smiled at Viggo, who for a moment looked like he had been ambushed by a pack of lions. But he quickly caught himself, regaining his composure and smiling pleasantly. "Thank you, father." he said and only Hugo, who knew him well by now could hear the sarcasm in his voice. "If you permit, I would now withdraw with my new... 'slave' and... well..." he looked a bit helpless and Hugo nodded gracefully.

"I understand. Be on your way." he said and waved Viggo off, who motioned to some guards to bring the young prince who was still kneeling in front of the throne, staring daggers at him.

Karl watched him leave with something very close to desperation. There went his chance to get rid of Sean for the afternoon. There was no way that anybody would believe the prince would ask for the rough blonde, when he had just been given such a beauty by his father. Although Karl was pretty sure he would have preferred Sean's company.

But that was no help to the captain of the guard. Pretty soon he would find himself locked up in his rooms with a man he desperately desired and could not possibly have.


	17. Chapter 17

XVII  
by Liz & Beryll

I'm not used to this, Sean thought with a sigh as he paced Karl's quarters. I'm going to wear a rut in the floor before the night is over... but I must keep the memories, the dreams, at bay...

Keeping a born soldier and warrior locked up was not the best of ideas. A man used to action never took well to being kept inactive. Especially if he did not want to have the time to think. 

And having said soldier's liege lord and best friend within view of the main window in Karl's rooms was even worse. Stopping abruptly at the arched window, Sean's heart sank even as his blood boiled at spying Viggo leading a beautiful young man down the open-air hall to what was most certainly his quarters. 

His Prince was adapting quickly indeed. Only a few weeks in this alien land and already he was owning slaves as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And there was no doubt the young man was a slave, chained, angry and unhappy as he looked. Did Viggo not notice what he was doing to the boy?

Why was he seeking such company when Sean longed for the frail sanctuary his Prince's presence offered from his dark memories. But Viggo hadn't come looking for him even once, had not sought him out, he mused. 'Why did you even try to find him in the first place if it's obvious he doesn't care?' a nasty voice asked in his head, 'and then again, why SHOULD he want you, as tainted and used as you are when he has such beauty at his disposal...?

Sean didn't even hear Karl come up behind him, he was so absorbed in his thoughts. But when the Captain stepped close behind him Sean's entire body suddenly tensed to spring, every nerve twanging like an overwrought bowstring, and he waited in abject fear for the moment when Karl would take what little control was left to him; punching him back, holding him down, forcing, taking, just like... Air left his lungs as the memories returned... his breath held and he shook like a cornered cat. I am not broken, I am not broken, I am NOT - 

"Why Prince Viggo would give up a beauty such as yourself is beyond reasoning," whispered the Captain with undisguised wonder. His breath tickled softly at Sean's ear, and Sean wanted to scream and rail with the urge to flee and the urge to fight warring in his heart. He owns me, I'm his slave, and he'll be just like the others, he thought. Why do I even try to fight still? If Viggo does not want me what is there left for me? What have I done to deserve this? 

"Do not... Please..." No more than a helpless whisper.

A warrior, reduced to pleading. How disgusting, Sean chastised himself. But the rage he'd held on to was used up. He felt empty, drained of life. Maybe he HAD been finally broken. Tears stung his eyes as Karl read his mind.

"Quite a change from the maddened warrior," Karl stated, gripping Sean's shoulders and turning the blonde to face him. The lush green eyes he'd hoped to gaze into were shadowed and downcast, defeat and desolation like a shroud over Sean's hunched body. Alarm gripped Karl and he blurted, "Sean, what's wrong?"

The ridiculous question caused Sean to first gape in amazement... then laugh. Laugh as if he could rid himself of the humiliation. A flat, mirthless sound. 

"What's WRONG?!" he snarled, fresh anger welling up, traitorous tears running down his flushed face. "What's WRONG?! If you must ask me, then you have no right to know!" 

Sean abruptly felt a surge of strength that mindlessly drove his hands upward to push at Karl's chest, knocking the Captain backwards in a stumble. 

"I allowed myself - my body - to be used in ways that a warrior should kill himself over, Captain," Sean spat. 

Every muscle began twitching again, but this time the he made no attempt to conceal it. What was the point? He was lost anyway. And then he noticed the expression in Karl's face. Not the greedy lust he was so familiar with but pity. That finally did break him.

"I was - am - merely property, all I am now doomed to be. Kill me, Captain..." He cried helplessly. "Do me a warrior's honor and kill me!"

All Karl saw were fiery green eyes before he realized Sean had lunged for him, as swift as a cobra's strike. Iron fists dug into the robes at his chest, and Karl let himself be pulled to Sean's wild, haunted face. Hot, jagged breaths burst upon the Captain's skin from Sean's flaring nostrils, but the man said nothing more as he stared at Karl like a bull awaiting the impetus to charge. "Sean...?" Karl whispered tentatively, fighting the urge to grip Sean's fists with his own. He was trying to find words to reassure the other man but failed.

"Kill me, Karl," Sean urgently whispered back. "Kill me. Kill me!"

By Allah, Karl swore to himself. His arms moved of their own volition to Sean's now stiff shoulders, to hug the blond, to hold him close. He could think of nothing else to do for the man who begged for death, begged for it at his hands.

Sean's desperate hopes soared when Karl moved into his grasp. He will do it, he thought in overwhelming relief, thank Odin he will…

"NO!" The bellowing scream raged up and out of him when he realized that the Captain meant no such thing, and he struck out blindly with a half-closed fist even as he tore himself from Karl to reel back and hit the wall. Away from me, get away, away, away...

"SEAN!"

The sharp bark from Karl snapped Sean back, and he looked at Karl through blurry eyes. A bloody stain smeared the dark-haired Captain's right cheekbone, where ragged fingernails had met tender skin, but Karl seemed to not notice. Instead, he stared back with a determined, perplexed look, as if he were trying to decide how to handle Sean. I know how I'd handle me, Sean decided; I'd either give the same right back to me, or - 

A quick feint with his left fist at Karl's head enabled Sean to dart in with his right and steal the only freedom Sean could think of: the Captain's dagger. "If you will not do it for me, I will do it myself!"

Karl caught the blonde's furiously mumbled words amidst the flurry of movement, and spied the glint of steel in Sean's hand. The man is outright mad, he realized with fear, and without thinking twice he backhanded Sean with all the force he could muster. The dagger sailed from jarred fingers to skitter across the floor tiles as Sean slid down the rough wall to sit in a sobbing heap.

"Do what you will, I care not," Sean coughed out from. If this is my destiny, my fate, then so be it, came the numbing thought while Karl knelt before him; my body is not my own anymore... take my spirit as well...

"I will do nothing, Sean," Karl said softly, careful not to touch or reach out. "Trust me."

"No."

What would bring a fine, brave warrior to his knees like this? The question circled Karl's mind incessantly as he also pondered Sean's pitiful, moaning response. He knew Sean had suffered before coming to the Caliph's palace, but he was worried about the sudden change in the blonde's demeanor. There really was only one thing he could think of and it made him shudder with anger. To bring a warrior so low… 

"Sean. Please. Tell me what happened to you." He wanted to help the man, but how exactly? And would Sean even let him? He didn't even trust him. Actually, why should he?

"Please, I can't stay in this room any longer. It makes me think, gives me time to remember..." Sean hugged himself and shivered, tears burning on his cheeks. "I'm dirty. Dirty..." 

// "You WILL submit, slave! You're pretty, and I need a good fuck!"

Rope, rough and splintery, sawing into my neck, tugged on by my master... Freezing iron binding my hands behind me... Floor against my cheek, heavy foot on the small of my back, another on my aching shoulders and I cannot struggle, have no control. The rope burns into my skin, and I focus. Focus on pain. Focus on the end of it. Focus anywhere but here.

"Finest ass I've ever seen. Firm and tight. I'll enjoy this..."

The sting from the lash of the whip on my back nearly obscures the agony... the ripping of my flesh... I cannot stop him... No control... //

"I AM DIRTY!" The fury in Sean's voice was there, but his body had no strength left now to show it. He dropped his head to his arms, hiding his face from Karl's view. Too long to think, his mind fuzzily told him. If you think, if you remember, you will become a shadow of yourself... "Leave me, please. Leave me," Sean muttered into the crook of his arm. Don't you understand, don't you see...?

Karl was torn. He wasn't sure if it was the madness talking, or if Sean really did want to be alone. Pity, he felt such pity for the strong, exotic beauty now reduced to a weak, struggling man; and yet, would Sean become even more incensed if his wishes were ignored? 

"As you wish, Sean." The Captain could say nothing more as he stood, took one final look at his heart's desire, and walked into the adjoining room. If I turn back to look again, Karl thought painfully, I might damage him more... and myself...

In leaving, Karl didn't hear the despondent plea whispering up from the lips of Sean, lips that were trembling as it was said.

"Please don't leave me..."


	18. Chapter 18

XVIII  
by Mel

Viggo could not even begin to think what he’d done to deserve this from Hugo. He went over everything he had done, everything he had said since he had arrived. Nothing came readily to mind. Surely taking young Orlando as a servant had not angered him, Viggo was certain his new father would have mentioned it if he had. And yet he had put Viggo in the position where he could not refuse the gift offered to him.

The boy was beautiful, that much was certain. The buttermilk skin was testimony enough that the young prince saw little daylight and his eyes were truly amazing. Viggo would not lie to himself, the boys exotic beauty had made his mouth dry and his loose pants slightly uncomfortable. But he didn’t need someone who was going to leave live scorpions in his bed. He had one of those already, and one Orlando-like slave was more than enough.

Viggo did allow himself a small smile at the thought of the young man when he had left him earlier. He had been snuggled against him like a living blanket when Viggo had awoke. It had taken much effort to extract himself from the street rat’s hold, though through it all he had slept. When he had gone Orlando had rolled over, burrowed into the warm spot Viggo had left and would not be woken. Viggo had been quite content to leave him to his slumber but now he wished for the quite presences beside him.

He could feel the prince’s, Elijah Viggo believe the name was, eyes burn a hole in his back from between the guards who escorted him. Viggo even wished he was back in the desert instead of leading the boy to his rooms. He wondered if he could possible convince Hugo that someone else would be more suited to look after him.

He found himself at his rooms much too quickly for Viggo’s liking, and he stopped somewhere within the centre of the room, trying to think of what he was going to do with his new acquisition. Orlando appeared at the doorway to the bedroom, his eyes falling to the other young man in interest. Viggo’s eyes fell to the cuffs wrapped around the boy’s wrists.

”The keys for those, if you please.” The guards exchanged a look that said quite plainly they thought Viggo was mad. Viggo glowered more then a little angrily and the keys quickly passed into his hands.

”We will be just outside if you require our... assistance, my Lord.” The guards bowed as one and made themselves scarce. Absolutely marvellous, Viggo mused. Still, his eyes fell on the fey creature before him, best try and make the boy comfortable before figuring out what to do with him.

”I will just unlock these, young Elijah, and we will then try to-”

Viggo got no further then that before Elijah launched his small frame towards him. Fingers scratched down still sun raw skin of Viggo’s shoulders, causing lights to spark in front of his eyes. Viggo may have cried out, he was unsure as pain clouded everything for a moment as the fingers clawed cruelly against the abused flesh.

And then suddenly the pain was gone.

Orlando threw the small man from his body, using the momentum from sailing across the room to push him as far away from Viggo as he could. He snarled, lips pulling back and exposing his teeth, holding the Prince’s wrists in his hands. No one got away with hurting his Viggo!

The two of them fell, Orlando landed heavily on Elijah’s body but he didn’t have time to wonder at how they ended on the floor before Elijah rolled him onto his back. The younger boy was quick as he straddled Orlando’s legs, tearing a hand free from his hold. The hand became a fist and pain lanced through Orlando’s jaw as the fist hit him.

But Orlando had been in enough fights, he knew how to handle the pain of a few punches, and he wasn’t going to let this little rich boy get the better of him. He caught the second swing mid air and used the unbalanced movement to roll the boy onto his back. Holding both wrists with one hand his fingernails bit cruelly into the flesh, making the Prince squirm beneath him. For some reason Orlando could not bring himself to punch the boy back, but the anger from him hurting Viggo was still raw. Instead he left his hand open, letting his palm connect with the boy’s cheek. He brought it back the other way, the back of his hand swiping viciously at the other cheek.

Blue eyes stared up at him, mixing fury, pain and misery in equal measure. Orlando couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for the boy, he brought this upon himself, and he would learn quickly that you did not get away with attacking their master-

”ENOUGH!”

The word was roared, cutting the next slap before it even began to fall. Both boys looked over at Viggo.

The tall Prince was obviously in great amounts of pain. His entire body trembled with that and the fury that laced through him. Orlando had not known Viggo long, but he found it very hard to believe that the other man was capable of anger. Yet, now looking into those clear blue eyes, Orlando wondered how he could have ever thought that Viggo was incapable of such an emotion.

”You will cease this immediately.” These words were softer, but no less then the first. ”I will not have two that are mine brawling like drunken sailors.”

Orlando’s hand dropped, falling uselessly to his side. The other hand let go of Elijah’s wrists and he cringed slightly at the bloodied mess his fingernails had left. Elijah was even held captive by Viggo’s fury, Orlando wondered how long it would last.

Viggo took a deep breath, visibly calming himself before he spoke. ”Off him Orlando,” Orlando could not move any faster if something had bitten him, ”sit up, Elijah.”

Elijah chose to ignore him, looking away from the other Prince. Viggo said nothing as he stepped forward, crouching beside him, but something flashed in those eyes that Orlando couldn’t quite bring himself to name. But even Orlando was surprised when Viggo’s hand curled in Elijah’s hair, yanking the boy into a seated position, making him gasp slightly at the pain. He used the grasp of Elijah’s hair to drag his eyes so that they were looking right at him.

”I do believe I asked you to do something. Maybe next time you will be a little faster at reacting to an order.” Blue eyes were surprised as they blinked at the man. ”If I had been any other man, my dear Prince, you would have been beaten into submission by now, your body abused and raped. Though you may not like it, boy, you are a slave through your families design. Be thankful the Caliph chose to give you to me.”

There was a pause before Viggo let go of the curls. ”But even I will not tolerate having you attack me or another of my own. Do that again and you will find yourself back in those chains before you can blink.” The boy nodded but Viggo was not surprised to see the defiance in those eyes. There would be more problems with Elijah before the day was out.

Viggo stood, walking to where Orlando was, watching the two of them. Orlando’s eyes followed his approach, flicking towards the door. He had scared him, not the effect Viggo had been hoping for. Still the street rat didn’t move, allowing to come right up in front of him, letting gentle fingers turn his face so he could view the rapidly forming bruise that graced his jaw.

”Are you alright?” Viggo asked softly, his voice trembling slightly. With the anger gone only the pain remained. Viggo would not enjoy taking off the shirt he wore. The boy had been quite vicious and he was more then certain the sun burnt skin was now torn and bleeding in places. And yet, his hands were gentle and steady as he touched the bruise lightly.

Orlando stared at him with those chocolate eyes. ”I’ll live,” the eyes flicked smugly to Elijah, ”he hits like a girl.”

”Do not go causing trouble,” Viggo said firmly, ”I will be back with some cream for this soon.”

”You’re going!” The words were an accusation, not a question.

”Yes, you can show Elijah around when he stops sulking.” The boy growled, making Orlando smile, causing him to flinch from the pain in his jaw. ”I will try not to be too long, the guards will beout side if you require any... assistance.” Orlando nodded, understanding the pause. Viggo kissed him softly before moving away. He glared down at Elijah on his way towards the door. ”You harm him again and there will be hell to pay, my little prince.”

The guards outside were standing either side of the door, seemingly uncaring of the events that had just unfolded in his courtyard. ”Please make sure they do not kill each other.” Both men nodded, hiding smiles well.

Viggo went around the corner, out of view of everyone. He stopped, both hands pressed to the wall as he almost doubled over, and threw up. He had come so close to just beating the blue eyed boy. Laying into the small body until it screamed for mercy. Only the smallest shred of control kept his temper from igniting completely and consuming him. He had only ever lost his temper once, and the man he had attacked had been lucky to survive, if Sean had not been there at the time Viggo was sure he would have killed him.

Sean.

Viggo’s eyes closed. To think he had almost lost him to the desert. And he was so caught up in his new duties and Orlando that he had not seen him since his brief visit on that first day. He had to see him. Now.

Forgetting his pain and the open wounds that had now begun to soak his shirt with blood he made his way down the hallway. He had to find Sean. He had to talk to him. He needed to talk to him lest he attack Elijah next time. He needed to see if his friend was all right. He needed...

He needed Karl and Sean.

Now.


	19. Chapter 19

XIX  
by Beryll

Karl walked back and forth through his antechamber in silence. Each time he passed the open doorway leading to the main room he caught a glimpse of Sean whostill sat against the wall, his arms wrapped tightly around his up drawn knees, his face hidden against his arms and under his long blonde hair, his body wracked by a shudder now and then.

What Karl wouldn't have given to be able to help him, to just go to him and comfort the other warrior. But he had been sent away. And he didn't deserve any better really. What chance he might have had to win Sean trust he had foolish destroyed with his clumsy advances. 

But he just couldn't leave him like that. There had to be something he could do. He had just decided that there was only one person, who could help Sean now, when there was a soft knock on the door.

He hurried over, thankful for the moments distraction and anxious that it would be someone demanding his attention when he just wanted to help his 'slave'.

He was quite surprised when he opened the door and found prince Viggo in front of it. And not a happy Viggo. His face was pale and there was barely suppressed fury and pain burning in his eyes. Still his voice shook only slightly when he spoke.

"Can I come in, captain?"

Karl's eyes raked the figure of his prince and immediately noticed the blood seeping through his shirt in several places. And added guilt at not protecting his prince in whatever fight he had been in sprung up in him.

"My prince, what has happened to you?" he asked in deep concern and at the same time pulled him inside and closed the door behind him.

Viggo slumped against him the moment he was out of sight of the guards outside, giving in to deep tiredness.

"A desert cat with sharp claws." he answered, pain now evident in his voice. "I think I underestimated that princeling the Caliph gave to me."

Karl led him over to a chair and sat him down, Sean completely forgotten for the moment. "You did not free him of those chains, did?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Viggo looked up at him and in his face was clearly written that he was feeling foolish. "Well... I though I could talk to him..." A shiver ran through him and Karl saw his fists clench. "Gods, Karl, I was close to beating him senseless when he attacked me. I could have killed him..."

Karl knelt in front of him, taking one of his fists and gently uncurled his fingers. "That is understandable. You have been through a lot. You are still hurt from your ordeal with the desert. Your nerves are frazzled. You must not push yourself so hard, my prince." he tried to reassure Viggo. "You should order the little beast beaten to teach him a lesson..."

But Viggo just shook his head. "No... I will have to live with the kid, I don't want him to hate me even more..." He tiredly let his head fall back. "I wonder what I did to anger Caliph Hugo so much that he punishes me so." he muttered, shocking Karl.

"Certainly the Caliph did not wish to punish you, my prince. But what would he have done with the boy? He probably just thought you'd be better able to deal with him."

Viggo snorted without any humor in his voice. "Yeah, we can see now how well I am able to..." he commented sarcastically.

Karl didn't know what else to say to calm his prince. Instead he got up to find something to tend the bloody scratches decorating Viggo's body.

Only when he turned around did both of them notice Sean standing in the doorway. His eyes were still red from crying, but now they were filled with a different pain. He looked like he had just been beaten.

And immediately the prince had forgotten his own pain and was beside his friend, worry so obvious in his voice that Karl felt a stab of jealously. "Sean? Gods, what is it? What happened?" A moment Viggo hesitated, then drew the reluctant warrior into a tight embrace, completely ignoring his struggling. And strangely Sean subsided quickly sagging against his true master.

Karl watched them cling to each other with sadness in his heart. From this friendship he would probably remain forever excluded. But at least both seemed to slowly recover while they drew strength from the other.

At last Sean pushed the prince away, something close to a smile lurking in the corner of his mouth. "You look awful, my lord." he commented and Viggo suddenly laughed.

"Yeah, I had an encounter with a desert beast. And he seemed very intent on scratching my eyes out." Then worry reclaimed his face. "And you? What...?"

Immediately the smile left Sean's face and he lowered his eyes, avoiding his prince's gaze. "Nothing for you to worry about, my lord. I can deal with it myself."

Viggo's brow furrowed in anger. "Maybe you can. But you are my friend and I would share your worries always. Gods know I burden you enough with mine."

Karl drew breathe to interject something, explain about Sean's pain, but then he met Sean's gaze, saw the desperate pleading in them. And suddenly he understood why Sean did not want his prince to know what shame he had endured. And Karl realized that he would probably have felt the same, had he been in Sean's place.

But Viggo had noticed as well and now turned to face Karl. "What is all this about, captain?" There was a healthy dose of suspicion in his voice now and Karl was struggling to find an explanation. He had been about to call on the prince's aid to deal with Sean's pain before Viggo showed up at his door, but now he knew that this would have been one of the worst things he could have done, exposing Sean to more humiliation.

"We are still trying to deal with... sharing these confined quarters." he lied and he knew, that Viggo didn't buy it. But he also now noticed the fresh bruises showing on both Sean and Karl. His brow creased even more. "What are you two not telling me? If this is so difficult, we can always find another solution... I don't care what the public says, I will take Sean as my own..."

"NO!" the shout came from Sean and Karl in the same moment, even if for completely different reasons and Viggo suddenly had to suppress an amused smile.

"I certainly don't want to interfere with whatever you are doing when you are alone." he said. "But please try to do it more peacefully," he continued more seriously, "I need both of you, you know. You keep me sane..."

Sean nodded but Karl did not miss the silent 'thank you' he mouthed over to him. And then they both busied themselves with taking care of the wounds their prince had endured in his encounter with his new 'pleasure slave', listening to his various complaints about the hazards of being a prince.


	20. Chapter 20

XX  
by Liz

Orlando eyed Elijah with the menace of a predatory cat. ”You hurt him.”

Elijah eyed Orlando with the imperiousness of a peacock. ”And I am glad I did what I set out to do.”

It was a standoff between the two young men, and Orlando was more than ready to ignore his Prince’s warning, leap at the snotty ‘harem boy’ he was forced to babysit, and pound the stuffing out of him. The royal ‘gift’ fought like a girl, and Orlando was pretty sure Elijah knew nothing about dirty street fighting… of which goading was a key part.

”I was his first.”

”You can have him.”

Vexed at the ready answer from Elijah, Orlando shot back, ”Royal boy-whore.”

”Slut,” Elijah leered back.

”Second-best fuck toy.”

”Pimply-assed street rat.”

”HEY! My ass isn’t pimply!” Orlando protested just before he and Elijah burst into a manic fit of giggles at the absurdity of the statement. ”This is stupid,” the young thief said. ”We could go on forever calling each other names.”

”Just the way to spend an evening,” chuckled the princeling. But even as Elijah laughed, Orlando could see a storm cloud of sorrow dulling those huge blue eyes. Growing uncomfortable at such scrutiny, Elijah shrugged nonchalantly and turned away to shuffle to the arched window. ”I meant what I said; no talk of sharing him. I don’t want him. Prince Viggo is my shame.”

The words trailed off softly at the end, but Orlando knew he definitely caught the ‘shame’ part. He came up next to Elijah and breathed in the sweetly scented jasmine air wafting through the courtyard. What a way my life has turned, he sighed. From fighting to live… to simply living. But I have a feeling my life has been easy compared to Elijah’s. Then again, he could just be whining about trivialities that the noble class felt they have no right to bear… ”Shame? How?”

For a tense moment, Elijah wasn’t sure if he should tell the street rat. It was his grief, and his alone. But Orlando was the first person his own age that he could talk to in a long while; and his whole story would get out sooner or later, wouldn’t it? Elijah leaned out, savoring the breeze on his face while he focused on the gilt tops of the city’s minarets in the distance; his gaze picked out a robed muezzin ascending one of them, and as the man went step by step so did Elijah’s story.

”My father has sent me here to Prince Viggo as punishment. Not too long ago, he caught me with my teacher, a man not much older than myself. Ahmed was a mentor and I wanted him to be my lover as well, but my father, may Allah take his eyes, did not approve. No son of his was to favor men, not while he still lived. So he gave me to his house guards to teach me a lesson – to scare it out of me…” 

”And?” Orlando prodded.

”They did nothing, they were too unsure and frightened to. My father has a dangerous habit of testing people, and his men were not sure if this was one or not. To be safe, they chose not to touch me.”

I knew it, Orlando thought triumphantly, he’s just another ‘overburdened’ royal. Maybe I SHOULD beat the stuffing out of him for thinking his life is so hard! ”Keep going; you have yet to convince me.”

Elijah gave Orlando a bland sideways look. ”What if I told you my lover was put to death before my eyes?”

”Er… that might do it.” But Orlando wasn’t really sure he wanted to know details. No matter, as Elijah continued on:

”When my father found out his guards were of no use in my humiliation, he did what he thought was the next best thing. He summoned the household and a few choice friends, called Ahmed and I to his presence, and had Ahmed beheaded.”

The eerily detached tone of voice was more startling to Orlando than the story itself. It was as if Elijah were seeing it all happen through someone else’s eyes. He was going to ask why Elijah didn’t try to stop his father, but realized that most likely the young man had been subdued by one of the guards. The only thing he could say was, ”By Allah.”

”I was then paraded through the streets, forced to carry the head of my lover, which was tied with rope to my hands. Soon after, my father decided to gain favor with the new prince – and be rid of his embarrassment of a son at the same time.” The princeling then propped his jaw on a fist, his sky-blue eyes watery as he studied Orlando. ”You look like Ahmed.”

Orlando felt his groin tighten at the wistful statement, even while his mind was still reeling from Elijah’s tale. How could anyone hold his head high and speak so matter-of-factly about such pain? ”I do?” he whispered, entranced by those amazing blue eyes. ”I’m sorry.”

”I’m not.”

Orlando wasn’t sure how they had started the kiss. Baby-soft lips covered his, and the warm tongue that begged entry was welcomed as the kiss deepened. Elijah’s smooth hands worked the street rat’s robes apart, and Orlando groaned at the feather-light fingertips on his olive skin. ”Elijah,” he breathed into the princeling’s hot mouth, ”after what you’ve been through – ”

” – I need comfort,” Elijah finished. He slid a hand down to Orlando’s groin, and smiled when his grip on the stiffness there brought forth a moan and shudder. It has been so long since I’ve taken comfort in the touch of another, Elijah mused. And the handsome street rat is just begging to be used for that purpose; if he balks, I’ll simply remind him of his station. ”Let me do what I want.”

”Please…” Silk rippled over his aching prick, and Orlando held his breath. Elijah had gone down on his knees, taking Orlando’s pants with him, and his bare cock jutted out to brush the princeling’s cheek. He half expected Elijah to bite it off, considering not too many minutes before this they had wanted to kill each other. His brain shut off every thought except hunger when Elijah kissed the velvet-hot tip, all the while looking up into Orlando’s deep brown eyes with limpid, wet blue ones. 

”Why?” asked Orlando, threading quaking fingers through the princeling’s tousled curls. I will burst, I will explode, I will die, I will - 

Elijah licked his lips. ”Just because. Now be quiet.”

Neither one noticed Viggo standing in the doorway…


	21. Chapter 21

XXI  
By Mel

Viggo had almost fallen asleep. It had happened before, when he had gotten so furious that all he was able to see was black and red, afterwards he was always drained. As such he lay on Karl's divan, listening in silence for time as Karl and Sean talked. It was obvious to anyone who listened that neither were at all easy with simply talking to each other. But with all their attempts to get Viggo to talk after their initial meeting failing, they had to talk to each other lest everything fade into silence.

It took a few tries before they both settled on something they had in common, other then Viggo, commanding troops. They traded stories of their moments in battle, and though the two men were as different as night and day, they were fundamentally the same. There was still something underlying this all that neither seemed ready to tell Viggo, but the Prince could be patient when the need struck. He would wait until they were ready to tell him.

Their soft banter however was more then enough to begin to nod off. Just as his eyes began to close he realised the noise in the room had died. Opening them again he found two sets of eyes looking at him with more then enough amusement. Viggo rolled his own eyes and stretched, rising slowly.

"And now that you two have finished having fun at my expense, I think it's time I took my leave." Viggo murmured dryly.

"Are you sure you want to go back?" Sean's grin was sly as Viggo remembered it and Viggo was happy to see some of the playfulness return to his old friend, even if it was at his expense. "What if your two Desert Kittens aren't playing nice?"

"Then Karl can have them too," Viggo's smile was sweet, "I'm sure you'd love that."

Something seemed to flicker in Sean's eyes, but Viggo wasn't sure precisely what it was. Could it have been protectiveness? Was Sean attached to Karl?

Karl laughed, making Sean smile. "I am afraid not, Princeling, you can keep both Hell cats for yourself. I have more then a handful right here." And both men shared a smile at that.

Viggo was glad they were getting along so well, but was surprised at how alone he suddenly felt, even among those he counted closest to him. Had he been changed so much by the events that had occurred? Or was it simply that they were growing without him? Viggo wasn't sure if he liked either option, he could not afford to loose the friendships he had, he would fade away if he did.

"Just don't go getting into any trouble you two!" Viggo realised he was probably being ridiculous, they would both be here for him if he ever needed them. Viggo smiled at them, content with his knowledge. There was something happening between the three of them, but time would see what became of it. He knew, without any doubt, that he would die for either one of them. "I will see you both for dinner, yes?"

"Of course," said Karl, "would not miss it for the world, princeling."

Viggo chuckled as he left the room. But his thoughts soon drifted to his two wayward kittens as he made his way back to their rooms. Because they were now 'their' rooms. Viggo knew, for everything else, he would not be giving up Elijah any time soon. The boy would find himself in much trouble if he tried what he had done today on any other Lord. But, for all that had happened, Viggo found himself intrigued by the young Prince. Something about those blue eyes...

He didn't get much time to think on it before he found himself in front of the rooms, waving the guards back to their other duties. And seeing the most exotic thing he'd ever seen.

Elijah's pale skin contrasted against Orlando's coffee as the two kissed, their lips merged together. Viggo stopped, unable to bring himself to step in, to interrupt. The desperation and the sorrow that saturated the two was enough to make Viggo pause.

However, when Elijah fell to his knees Viggo's iron clad resolve was tested, but he held firm. This was something for the boys to work out. And Viggo would be bathing in cold water tonight.

Orlando was making soft noises that echoed through the room as Elijah took him into his mouth, slowly, easing the length in. Viggo watched in rapture as the pink lips engulfed him, sucking carefully. His cheeks hollowed, taking in as much of the other boy as possible before then pulling back, keeping just the head between his lips.

Sweat sprinkled on coffee skin, dark eyes watched the prince on his knees. His fingers were threaded in the dark curls, the colours between the two contrasted against each other. Dark and light, merging together till you could barely pick which was which. Viggo watched, his breathing deepening. He ached to join them, but something was holding him back.

Viggo didn't think he'd be welcomed in this moment.

Young Elijah knew what he was doing and brought Orlando quickly to the brink, the sounds that he had been trying to keep at bay were steadily getting louder and more frequent.

"Elijah, I'm going to-"

Orlando choose that moment to look up, his eyes heavy with desire. They widened in something akin to horror, but he could not stop what had already begun. Viggo watched Orlando become undone in those chocolate depths, the soft whimpers became a single cry. His whole body shuddered, Elijah swallowing all he had to offer.

Elijah licked him clean, taking his time before rising to his feet. Orlando's eyes didn't leave Viggo.

Arms wrapped around the street rat's form, nuzzling his neck. It took Elijah a few moments before he realised Orlando wasn't paying any attention to him. He then noticed Viggo's presence, blue eyes flickering with emotion before he buried his face in the crook of Orlando's neck, body tensing.

"We didn't do anything wrong," Orlando said, arms wrapping suddenly around Elijah. Protective. It was good to see and lightened Viggo's heavy heart. "We just... He needed... I thought-"

"It is all right Orlando," as beautiful as he was flustered, Viggo did not see the point of letting him fret. "I am not angry." Elijah peaked out at him through heavy lashes, still curled around Orlando. "On contraire, I am pleased the two of you are getting along so well."

"Really?"

Viggo smiled, "of course."

"And you're not going to go all Demonic on us?" Orlando asked.

"I certainly hope not." Viggo muttered dryly, "I just want a cold bath."

"You don't want some of this?" Orlando all but purred, leaving one arm around Elijah, while the second ran down his own body, dancing over heated flesh.

"Orlando." Viggo's growl was a warning, but one that Orlando ignored.

"No? Well then," the smile was sinful, "how about this?" The hand on Elijah trailed over the silky white skin. Elijah seemed torn, he didn't know wether to arch back into the touch or shy away from it. For a moment unsure eyes held Viggo's. What ever he found in them must have sparked something in Elijah as they grew determined and he arched into the older boy's touch. The movement brought a gasp from all three of them.

He still wore the same rich blue pants on, but that didn't seem to hinder the young prince at all. The bulge outlined in the sheer fabric was testimony enough that Elijah was enjoying the attention.

"Just look at this milky skin. Don't you want to taste it?" Taking his own advice Orlando dipped his head, letting his tongue trail up Elijah's exposed cheek, making the boy moan. "Like sweet wine." His hands, busy as his eyes locked with Viggo's, found the drawstrings, tugging them undone. The soft material pooled at his ankles, leaving him naked before them.

Viggo couldn't breath. Chocolate and sapphire depths stared at his, lust ridden, full of desire, holding him captive. He couldn't move, instead watching the two of them as Orlando's slim hands found Elijah's arousal.

"He's so hard, Viggo," Orlando purred as Elijah tried to rock into the touch. "Don't you want to come over here and join us? To touch his body? Let your hands map his flesh? Make him cry out for only you?" Orlando's voice grew heavier with each word, he licked his lips, eyes burning. Still Viggo didn't move, though the temptation to walk over to them was driving him insane.

"Don't you want to take him into your mouth Viggo? Bring him to the brink of oblivion again and again, show him how to worship someone? Or would you want us on our knees?" The image of the two of them, kneeling before him, loving him made him groan, bringing a smirk to Orlando's lips. "You would like that, I think. The two of this sucking you, taking you to ecstasy, loving you-"

"Ahmed."

The name was gasped so softly that it froze the two other men in a moment before they both stared down at Elijah. His eyes were screwed up, face flushed and breathing ragged. He was rocking into Orlando's hand, but it was obvious he was somewhere else entirely.

Orlando began to pull back, causing Elijah to whimper, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. "Please don't stop, Ahmed."

"Keep going Orlando," Viggo rasped, causing Orlando to look at him. "Do not leave him like this."

"But Viggo-"

"Can you feel his pain?" Viggo asked. "He needs to be rid of this, and it will take time before he remembers to call someone else's name in ecstasy."

And so Orlando did.

The Street Rat closed his eyes against the pain he could see, but quickened his pace. Viggo watched on in silence. Elijah came hard, crying out the name that haunted him so. His body collapsed against Orlando and he easily held the extra weight against him.

Elijah's breathing slowed and his face went a distinct shade of red.

Viggo smiled warmly, though if you looked closely, you could see where tears had formed in his eyes. Elijah and Orlando were truly beautiful, even amid such sorrow.

"If you two can manage to keep your hands off each other," he said gently. "We are having two dinner guests tonight. I expect you both to be on your best behaviour." Now he stepped forward, moving slowly towards them. He kissed Orlando softly, taking a moment to ease the pain. His fingers brushed Elijah's cheek briefly, causing the boy to flinch. Viggo got the feeling if he wasn't so exhausted, Elijah probably would have made the attempt to bite him. "I will bathe first, and then you two may. Be sure not to take to long though."

Viggo left the two of them. "Now what will I do with those two."


	22. Chapter 22

XXII  
by Beryll

'Lost' was what Elijah thought, as he followed Orlando, his gaze fixed to the streetrat's feet, his mind focused on the tingling sensation that still ran through his body. 'Lost to a worthless piece of shit'. How could he have allowed that little bastard to use him like that when it had been him who want to use and abuse?

Instead he had stood there panting and whimpering, his passion on display for his 'master'. Maybe his father had been right after all. Maybe he was just a cheap slut.

He shut that thought away, as he felt the telltale burning behind his eyes. He would not cry. Not again. Never again. He wouldn't show weakness. They could use his body but they could not touch his soul. He told himself that over and over but somehow it refused to sink in, fear gripping his heart when he remembered the barely disguised lust in the eyes of the prince who now owned him.

A shiver ran down his spine, cold and fearful. He remembered well, what the prince had said. That he should count himself lucky for getting away that easily, that any master would have punished him hard for that attack. Yeah, sure. Elijah knew men like prince Viggo. His father was just the same. Punishment would come when he least expected it. But he would stay alert.

Orlando turned left into another room and Elijah followed without looking up. He didn't want to see where he was going. Didn't want to know what awaited him next. 

Go have a bath, the prince had said. As if he would ever feel clean again. The guards who had brought him here had done nothing but leer at him but even that made him feel sullied beyond repair, filling him with the wish to scratch off his skin, to cut his pretty face so nobody would ever look at him.

How his brothers and sisters had envied him for his looks. They would never understand, why he dispised his own beauty. Who ever looked beyond the obvious? Ahmend had. He had seen the bright mind buring behind the pretty face. He had talked in earnest instead of offering meaningless compliments.

'No, don't go there', Elijah told himself firmly, instead focusing on his surroundings, taking in the tiled bathing room with the great pool of cool water in the middle. Orlando had already shed his scant clothing and was wading in, dutifully obeying their masters wishes.

Elijah snarled silently. That bitch. Willing pleasure toy to his master. Bile rose in Elijah throat as he thought of Orlando actually insinuating that Elijah wanted to take prince Viggo from him. No way in hell he would allow the prince to touch him. He would rather die.

"Are you coming?" Orlando called from the pool with a mixture of cheerfulness and mocking. "Or are you afraid of water?" He grinned insolently and Elijah suppressed the urge to smack him. How was he ever to survive this?

He took off his own pants and followed the streetrat into the pool, enjoying the cool water against his skin despite himself. He waded deeper in till he could duck under completely, ignoring Orlando's curious gaze. He had had his taste. It would remain the only one.

He washed calmly and efficently, making sure that he didn't get close to the other boy. The last thing he wanted was to give Orlando any ideas. Still he felt the streetrats eyes on his back, when he left the pool again.

Some servant had slipped inside and taken away his pants, leaving silken ones that were so soft and light one could almost see through them. They were the color of a early morning desert sky, hard to tell if blue or sand colored. Beautiful really, but all Elijah could think when he put them on was, that he looked like a fucktoy in them. An expensive fucktoy, yes, but still just a toy.

Matching pants had been put there for Orlando. Only his were a rusty red, showing off his tanned skin and brown eyes. Elijah watched as Orlando got dressed to, having to admit, that the boy did look good in a rough way. His limbs were not soft and smooth as his own but lean, a body made for running.

The streetrat grinned when he noticed Elijah watching and he looked away quickly.

"Shall we go back?" Orlando asked and Elijah nodded quietly. No uses holding off the inevitable any longer. Again he kept him gaze on Orlando's feet, not wanting to see his new 'home' just yet. There would be more than enough time for that.

All too soon they arrived back at prince Viggo's quarters. And was what even worse - obviously they had dallied to long, for the princes guests were already there. Elijah heard them their voices from the main room even before they entered.

His gaze swept over them and he immediately tensed. The man sitting opposite the prince he recognized as the captain of the Caliph's guard, who had been standing beside the Caliph's throne. And the way the man casually flicked some of his braid from his face, as his gaze traveled up and down Elijah's body appreciativly was rather obvious.

He stopped in the doorway while Orlando sauntered over to the prince's side, kneeling down next to him like the obedient little slave he was.

Prince Viggo looked over his shoulder for Elijah and gestured him over too, when he spoted him in the doorway. His feet seemed to fight every single step, but Elijah made them walk over, then stopped next to the low table where Viggo and the Captain were lounging, his whole body speaking of the fact that he didn't want to be here.

Then he noticed a third man sitting at the table. This one so quiet and motionless that he had at first missed him, despite his exotic looks. Blond hair trailed down to his shoulder, shining like molden gold. He was wearing strange clothes too and for a moment Elijah thought him a foreign trader. But then he noticed the obvious slave's branding decorating the back of the man's hand and the quiet sadness in his green eyes.

He had the body of a warrior, strength and agility barely hidden in his quiet posture. The Captain must own him and with a shiever Elijah considered what he must have done to his slave to break him thus.

"Sit down and behave!" prince Viggo said and for once Elijah hurriedly obeyed, kneeling close to the prince as well, trying to escape the hungry stare of the Captain.

Thankfully the talk quickly turned to politics again, the prince and the Captain discussing matters of state, that Elijah would have been able to contribute quite some useful information to, had he been asked. But he was ignored, the prince cuddling Orlando, feeding him juicy bits from the table, Orlando curled up in his lap like a faithful little dog.

Elijah attention remained mainly fixed on the blond slave and when Elijah finally caught his eye he could not supress a shy smile. At first it was not answered at all, the green eyes remaining dull and sad. The wish to reach out to him was so strong that Elijah had to sit on his hands to keep them quiet.

And when he looked up at the man again, there was a slight sparkle in those green eyes, lighting them up, making the man's face become alive. Elijah was only granted a short nod, before the other slave turned back to eating quietly while listening to the prince and his owner. But it was enough to set Elijah's heart racing.


	23. Chapter 23

XXIII  
By Mel

Viggo was almost content. Orlando snuggled up happily against his body, a soft purring noise almost issued constantly from his mouth. He knew Orlando felt bad about all the things that had happened earlier in the day. Viggo also knew that the young man was trying to deal with Elijah and longed just for a few moments to forget. Viggo was happy to indulge him, knowing that the young man comfortably curled in his lap was enjoying Karl’s company as well.

But almost was the key word.

Sean was silent, Viggo missed the sound of his voice more then before. Today he had been talking with Karl and things seemed all right, even for a small moment. Now he was quiet and Viggo longed for a sound from him, accompanied by his dry wit and lazy smile.

He would not even begin to go into how he worried for Elijah. The young Prince was now a slave, he had lost everything he had ever known. There was something within his fury and defiance that was heart wrenching. There was something beneath it all, something Viggo wanted to soothe that he feared he’d never even have a chance at finding. Orlando was keeping remarkably tight lipped about it all.

Karl had not bothered to hide his interest in Elijah, but Viggo wasn’t quite sure about his intentions. Viggo would not put it past Karl that he was trying to intimidate the boy, remind him that he was lucky with who he was with. Viggo had the feeling it would possibly have the adverse effect, but Karl would be very hard to convince otherwise.

But then, looking at Elijah, ignoring them to sneak a glance at Sean, Viggo thought perhaps it would be all right.

******

Orlando had been biting his tongue since he had been caught with Elijah. Not that it was really caught, he knew Viggo had enjoyed the show, even the end of it. The story was Elijah’s too tell, and Orlando didn’t think the blue-eyed Prince would have been impressed if he had gone telling his tale to someone he didn’t even like.

Which Orlando thought was stupid. How could anybody not like Viggo? Elijah was simply being silly in not even giving him a chance. Then again, he had been a thief, it was a little easier for Orlando to fit into this life style, especially considering Viggo didn’t think of him as a slave. Orlando was sure that he didn’t want to think about Elijah as a slave either, but Elijah hadn’t given him a chance.

It was all about politics.

Was this new slave of Karl’s, with his warrior stance and not so sunny disposition, also a part of this little game of politics? He was certainly lovely in his own little way, with bright blonde hair and green eyes. He was so sad though, haunted. Viggo knew him, he treated him as one would an old friend, not someone with a slave brand burned into the inside of his wrist.

Now that he thought about it, this was unlike any dinner that Orlando had seen the Lords take when he and his friends were relieving them of unwatched goods in other rooms. Viggo attempted to keep him in the conversation, even though Orlando was not overly interested in any form of politics. Though neither Elijah nor the new slave inputted anything, both Karl and Viggo almost constantly referred to them. As people, not slaves or manservants. It seemed to come effortlessly for his Lord, while Karl would sometimes have to rephrase what he said when speaking of Elijah.

Karl, who’s soft lips still stung against Orlando’s, continued to shoot the golden man worried looks.

On one such glance he happened to be reaching for his glass. Orlando would wonder later if Karl had done such an act on purpose, he was no clumsy man and the mistake was not like Karl. Still, there was little that Orlando could do as Karl missed the glass, knocking the dark wine down the table and over his slave’s lap.

******

”Oh my goodness.”

Elijah was the first to move, though not nearly fast enough to stop the flow of the drink that ended up in the blond’s lap. His hand wrapped around a piece of cloth, one that had been tucked beneath his pillow as he rushed to the other man’s aid.

Ahmed was a teacher, a scholar, and though his mind had always the most intelligent Elijah had had the pleasure to come across, normal life was a constant hassle. Small things were often forgotten when Ahmed got caught up in a discovery, or teaching, or a simple thought. Elijah often had to ensure the other man ate and was always mopping up spills. He had learnt to move fast to try and save parchments and clothing from being soaked through.

Elijah knelt before the other man, the cloth both trying to catch what fell from the table and mop the mess made of his clothes. In the end he could only do one so he tried to remove the stain from the cloth.

”It’s all right.”

Elijah looked up into green eyes. He was smiling now, a proper smile, not with teeth or even a grin. It was the simplest change in his lips, the slightest curling of the corners. Elijah got the impression he hadn’t smiled for a long time.

”I think it’s a lost cause, little one.”

”I will get you a change of clothing,” his master stood, giving Viggo an almost comical bow, ”seeing as this was my doing.” He left the room.

”Elijah, why don’t you show Sean the baths so he can get out of his clothing. I’m sure you’ll find everything you need there, Sean.”

Elijah was so startled that he stood when the blond man did. Prince Viggo was on personal terms... with a slave. Not one man in his father’s realm had spoken in such a way to a slave. Elijah himself could not think of a time that he had been on such familiar terms with one of his own slaves, even those he had been around since he had been born. Yet the older prince sat there, smiling teasingly at the tall blonde slave, eyes sparkling with delight.

The slave, Sean prince Viggo had called him did not smile, but his eyes danced when he looked at the Prince.

Orlando didn’t seem to be taking this well at all and pouted like an ignored child.

”The baths are this way,” Elijah murmured, snapping out of his daze. ”Follow me.”

Sean did and Elijah could feel his emerald gaze boring into his back. The intense stare made him shiver in a pleasant way.

******

Sean followed Elijah into Viggo’s bathing room. He was grateful to be out of that room, where the underlying tension had begun to constrict him. Sean could tell that something must have happened between Viggo and his two desert Kittens. Viggo had to this point kept quiet about whatever it may have been, but that was Viggo. Sean was certain he was waiting until his stress levels hit boiling point again before he’d think to open his mouth.

Elijah had been a surprise, both of the young men had. It seemed that all the people Viggo had associated himself with so far were beautiful. Karl with all his dark beauty and temperament, Orlando with his thieves grace and easy smile. Elijah with his blue eyes and fairy delicacy. If they were anywhere else, Sean knew he would be insanely jealous. But here, in this place and their strange customs that Viggo seemed to automatically fit into, like he was made for them, put Sean at ease.

The young man stopped by the bath, there were already jugs of heated water waiting for them, and a new set of clothing was laid out. Karl could certainly work quickly.

”Did you want to bath?” Elijah now turned to him.

Sean shook his head, ”no, I’ll just change.” He could feel the boy’s eyes on him as he slipped from his clothing, following the fresh scars on his skin, and he found it a little disconcerting. ”It must be strange for you, being so far from home.”

”That place is no longer home to me.” Elijah wasn’t looking at him anymore, his gaze looking at the water in the jugs. ”I have nothing now. There is nothing in this world left for me.”

The final sound in his voice startled Sean. Those bright blue eyes that should be so young, were vacant of everything. The sight made Sean’s heart ache. He pulled the simple pants on and walked over to the boy. Elijah looked up at him, as if remembering that he was here.

”There is always someone here for you.” He reached out, gentle fingers touching his face. ”If it helps, I will be here for you.” His lips touched the top of Elijah’s head, offering him comfort.

Suddenly Elijah was in his arms, clinging to his body. He didn’t sob loudly, but Sean could feel his tears against his skin. Sean rubbed his back, small soothing noises escaping his lips. For the first time since he had arrived, Sean felt needed.


	24. Chapter 24

XXIV  
by Beryll

The high corridors of the palace lay quiet and nearly deserted in the earliest hour of the morning. The sun was still asleep behind the horizon and the only light lighting the long hallways was shed by delicate oil-lamps, dangling from the columns, rising up to meet the roof.

Elijah trotted along quietly, not paying much attention to his surroundings. He was quite upset.

It had taken him a lot of courage to follow the captain of the Caliph's guard and his gentle golden slave when they had finally left the prince's quarters only half an hour ago after spending most of the night lost in talk about politics and battles.

Elijah had at some point fallen asleep, curled up on one of the soft pillows, close to 'Sean'. He had not dared to snuggle up to the other slave like he had so much longed to do, under the watchful eyes of his own master and that of the barbarian slave. The few moments that the strong arms of the foreigner had offered him comfort in the bath, before they had both returned to the prince and his guest, had seemed like a heavenly refuge from all the fear and anger he had experienced in the last few weeks.

When the captain of the guard had said his good-byes at last, the prince had withdrawn to his bedroom with Orlando in tow, leaving the seemingly still asleep Elijah alone in the sitting room. But he had been wide awake, creeping out of the room and after the captain and his slave in the hope that he might be able to steal another moment of Sean's company somehow.

He had been thoroughly disappointed when the captain arrived at his quarters and Sean followed him inside. He should have known that the captain would keep such an exotic, expensive slave always by his side. He had shuddered at the thought of what the slightly drunken warrior might be doing to his slave inside those rooms, while Elijah stood outside.

He had seen the terrible scars covering Sean's body. Even familiar with the cruelty with which his father treated his slaves, he had never seen the likes. He could now well understand, why Sean's eyes seemed so devoid of life most of the time, why he kept quiet and did not look at his master unless he absolutely had to.

Still some hope remained in Elijah's heart, that the warrior's soul in the other slave was not entirely broken yet. After all Sean had smiled at him. After all he had offered comfort. The thought that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to make Sean smile again, that maybe he could find the comfort he so sorely needed with this valiant man and offer some comfort in return, made Elijah smile a little.

He was startled from his thoughts, when a harsh hand suddenly grabbed him by the arm and stopped him.

"Well, well... what do we have here?" an oily voice asked. "Are you lost, little beauty?"

Elijah looked up to find himself face to face with a middle-aged man, wearing the finery of a court noble. The hungry glint in his black eyes made him shudder. He knew that look, had seen it earlier in the eyes of the captain of the guard.

The hand drew him closer, the grip on his arm tightening. "Maybe I'd better take you to a safe place, hmm? Pretty boys like you shouldn't wander the palace alone, don't you think?"

Elijah tried to pull free but the other man was much stronger. "Let me go!" he said, feeling anger and fear battle inside him.

"And why would I do that, pretty?" the noble asked, now openly leering. "Palace slaves should serve the guests, shouldn't they? Maybe it's time somebody taught you some manners, little minx."

"I..." Elijah nearly choked on the words but he pressed them out anyway. "I belong to the prince."

The noble just snickered. "Yeah... sure... that's why you sneak about instead of being locked up securely in his serrail." He started pulling Elijah with him.

Elijah felt panic rise. There was no way he was going to be able to fight this man. And he obviously wouldn't believe him. Why should he? He was right after all - by all rights Elijah should have stayed in the prince's quarters.

In vain he tried to pull free again, when suddenly another figure stepped from the shadows of a column. Elijah had only a moment to stare at Orlando in surprise. Then the streetrat kicked the noble against the shin hard, making the man yelp in pain and let go of Elijah.

"RUN!" Orlando shouted and darted down the corridor.

Elijah needed only a split-second to react, than he was after the other boy.

\---

"...was just about to take the little minx back to your quarters to make sure nothing untoward happened to him when this beast attacked me from behind!"

"But that's not true!" Orlando angrily interrupted the report of the noble, standing in front of Viggo.

Both Orlando and Elijah were kneeling on the floor next to their master but Orlando looked ready to jump up and kick the noble again.

Viggo tiredly rubbed his aching brow. This was really not what he had hoped to wake up to. Not after he had had too much wine during the long night.

"You insolent brat!" the noble fumed, looking like he wanted to wring the young slave's neck.

Then he turned back to Viggo. "My prince, I demand that this slave be punished for the injury he has caused me!"

"I just kicked your shin, you bastard!" Orlando spat back, now half rising.

The heavy hand of Karl, who stood behind the two boys, looking just as tired and unnerved as Viggo, kept him down.

The noble ignored the slave and instead waited for his prince's answer. Viggo felt his heart constrict. He knew full well, that he had no other choice but to order Orlando punished. He could not afford to anger this noble more. Silently he wondered why Orlando had to pick one of the more important nobles of court for his antics.

"What were both of you doing out of my quarters at that hour of night anyway?" Viggo asked both of the boys, his tone of voice making it clear that he was anything but amused.

Orlando sank back to his knees, glancing first at Elijah, then back at Viggo and then at the floor, his lips pressing together in a thin line. He wasn't going to tell, so much was clear.

Viggo felt anger stir in himself. Maybe the noble was right. Orlando did behave like an insolent brat.

"I've had enough of your behavior, Orlando." Viggo hissed, managing to keep his rage in check this time. To the noble he said "Do not worry, they will both be punished."

The noble nodded, his dignity restored.

Orlando looked up at Viggo in disbelief.

Viggo ignored the hurt he saw in those chocolate eyes. "See that he is beaten." he told Karl, ignoring the visible flinch of both Orlando and Elijah as well.

"May I suggest you give them into capable hands to have them trained for court live properly." Karl said, his hand still on Orlando's shoulder keeping him down, when Orlando looked back at him, obviously feeling betrayed by the captain of the guard.

Viggo again rubbed his brow. He did not want to see Orlando or Elijah punished. Neither did he want to miss them by his side. But it was clear that they would just get into more trouble, if they were not trained. He nodded slowly.

\---

Ian looked at his two new charges with quiet determination. It had been a while since he had been charged with training any slave's for the serrail of the Caliph. But none of those had ever looked as stubborn or angry as the two boys that Karl had just deposited in his care this morning.

Still Ian did not doubt, that he would be able to ingrain into them, what it meant to be a harem slave to the Caliph or the prince. They were both spoiled, Ian could see that even on the first glance. One by a rich life without care or work, the other by freedom. But he just viewed that as a challenge.

"Listen to me, boys." he addressed them and both looked up from their brooding. They were both kneeling on the hard stone floor of the inner yard of the slave training grounds of the palace. And had been since Karl had brought them in two hours ago, after submitting Orlando to five lashes with an offended noble watching.

"You are now in my care. I will teach you what it means to be a slave to a noble man like prince Viggo. You will learn how to serve his pleasure in various ways. You will also learn how to obey."

He could see the brown eyed boy bristling at that, but he just continued. "I will not tolerate any disobedience. Do not think that your master will come to your aid. You will not see him again, until I deem you ready."

That brought a different reaction. It was almost desolation he could see in Orlando's eyes. Ian's voice was gentler when he continued. "Your behavior has brought this upon you, boys. The education you will receive now, will not only make you better slaves to your master, it will also serve to protect you and your master from the wrath of other nobles. Court is a dangerous place for one who does not know its rules. You can be your master's assets, if you know how to use those rules. But you can just as well be a dagger in his back if you chose to ignore them."

He gave both of them a moment to consider this.

"Now go tend to those lashes. I expect you back here in half an hour. And then your training will begin."


	25. Chapter 25

XXV  
by Mel

”Why did you follow me?”

Orlando hissed, ”that hurt!” Elijah sat behind him, small hands putting small runs of herbal soaked cloth on the lashes on his back. The marks weren’t that deep, thank goodness, but Orlando wouldn’t forget them too soon. The marks they left on his mind were harder to be rid of.

”Why, Orlando?” The name was hard to say, Elijah having said all of two civil words to the other boy since they’d met. But he needed to know why Orlando had done what he had.

The other boy sighed, hissing as the fingers that tried to be gentle, hit another of the lash marks. ”Because I was worried about you, all right?”

Elijah stopped, his hands resting on an unmarked piece of flesh. ”What?”

”When I saw you leave I guess I sort of panicked. This place is not a good place to get lost in, not everyone’s the Prince or Karl. There are a lot of people who’d like to get a hold of a pretty boy like you.”

Elijah ignored the pretty boy remark, attempting to focus on the thief’s back. ”Why help me, I thought you didn’t like me?”

Orlando paused. ”I never said that, I just think you’re being unfair to Viggo.” There was a moment’s silence before Orlando finished quietly. ”And I was curious.” He sighed, thankful that he couldn’t see his face. ”Everything seemed to be all right when you came back with Sean, I knew something must have happened between you. I was a little jealous, I mean, you were my friend first. So I followed you. When that guy touched you,” Orlando shuddered, the fine movement twisting beneath Elijah’s palms. ”I just acted on instinct. It all seems so stupid now.”

”We are friends.”

The words were so silent that Orlando wasn’t even sure he’d heard them. He turned, careful not to hurt his back anymore then he had to. Elijah was looking at his hands, which fidgeted lightly in his lap.

”Aren’t we?”

He lifted his face to Orlando’s and there was something akin to hope there. Just a little, but it was enough. Orlando smiled at him, drawing a shy smile in return. ”Yes, I think we are.”

And he leant forward, pressing his lips lightly to the young slave. Elijah returned the kiss, happy to have found a friend in this place. A thief and a slave would work well together.

******

Karl reached his rooms after a vigorous work out. None of the other guards asked what had affected him so as he fought each one who was off duty. They took the beating the Captain gave them without question, allowing him to fight his demons in silence. If he had been in a better mood, he may have felt a little sorry for the other guards, some of who were fresh faced. But even with all the fighting, he was not able to rid himself of that which plagued him.

So Karl went back to his rooms by himself, his demons still fogging his brain. Orlando’s betrayed eyes following his actions and the slight shudder that ran through Viggo as each of the five blows fell. That small crease on Viggo’s brow as he left the room without his two kittens would haunt Karl for some time. The boys had to learn, Karl knew, but the pain it was obviously causing Viggo was regrettable.

Karl was glad when the Caliph had called for Viggo, insisting that he spend sometime with his new younger sister and brother. The children would put a hold on the Prince’s troubles and worries for a while.

However, that did mean that Karl was left to his own devices for the afternoon when he really required companionship. Though Sean had seemed to do well at dinner last night, Karl didn’t trust that the blonde slave would be the best of companions, given his erratic moods.

So Karl didn’t know whether to be worried or delighted when he found Sean pacing his room from one corner to the next. It was the most animated Karl had seen him since he had arrived here, except for when he his fists had been flying in Karl’s direction.

”You are wearing holes in my rugs,” Karl said as he entered the room, carrying a jug of hearted water.

This brought Sean’s focus straight to him. ”What happened? You were gone so long.”

”Worried?” Karl smiled exhaustedly, pouring the urn into his bath, the steam rising. ”I’m sorry Sean, I’m really not up to verbal games right now.” Karl hissed as he shucked his shirt. Damn it, now it looked like he’d pulled a muscle. ”I’m just going to lie in this bath for a while and then I will be going to bed.” He slipped his pants from his body, his back turned to Sean, uncaring if the blonde man watched him. Karl stepped into the hot water, sitting slowly, loving the feel of the water. This was one of the few things he allowed himself, though he made sure he didn’t get his hair wet, closing his eyes.

Karl didn’t notice Sean move, but he could feel a gentle tug at the base of his braids. Unsure where this was going Karl kept his eyes closed. He could hear his beads being placed carefully on the ground and then he felt deft fingers unraveling his hair. Karl purred.

When Sean finished he ran his fingers through the thick strands, starting at the scalp and working his way down to the very tips. Karl didn’t think about what this could possibly do, or mean, he allowed it to happen.

”Duck under the water for a moment.” Sean’s voice was soft, as if he didn’t want to break the spell that had fallen upon them.

Karl complied, shifting so that his back arched and dipping his head into the water, wetting his hair. There was a bottle of herbal liquid beside the bath and Sean picked it up, pouring a large portion onto his palm. When Karl rose back into place, Sean’s hands delved back into his hair, soaping it up and massaging the other warrior’s scalp. Karl went boneless against the tub.

This felt so wonderful Karl began to fall asleep though he really didn’t want to. This moment was too special for him to miss. However, next thing Karl knew, Sean was whispering to him, pulling him from the now cold water. The blonde man had him hold onto the bath as he dried him quickly. Karl could not even find the energy to wonder on the lovely image Sean made before him. Instead he allowed Sean to take him to the bed, getting him to lie face down. Sean re-braided his hair, Karl didn’t know much about it except that the next moment Sean was leaving the bed.

As much as Karl wanted him to stay, to sleep with him in his arms. He knew that was too much to ask and that Sean was not ready for his affection. That hurt, though Karl couldn’t even beginning to place the pain.

”Sean?”

”Yes?”

”Take my crest, it’s hanging by the door. If anyone asks, tell them I have lent you to Prince Viggo for the evening. He’ll be back in his rooms now, and he would love your company.”

There was silence for a moment but Karl didn’t look up.

”Thank you.” The whisper was almost so soft that Karl didn’t hear it. Karl smiled into his pillow, snuggling it, feeling better, though still drowsy. ”Sleep well, Karl.”


	26. Chapter 26

XXVI  
by Beryll

With a small subconscious smile Sean stopped in the arched doorway to prince Viggo's study to watch the one man he would gladly call master. The prince was so caught up in his work that he hadn't noticed anybody enter. And as Sean was 'just a slave' in the eyes of the guards outside the door, they had not thought to alert the prince of his arrival.

An oversight that Sean would later mention to Karl. It wouldn't do that an assassin could slip by the guards if he just dressed up as a slave. Even if it was a known slave.

Sean had visited the prince quite often in the course of the last week, Karl devising this or that excuse to create opportunities. Most of the times it were just a few minutes but Sean was grateful for every single one of them.

Sean took another step forward, his feet making a slight sound on the polished marble floor and immediately Viggo raised his head from the papers he had been studying, alert to any danger. This simple gestures reassured Sean. Even is the guards were lacking, his prince was well able to defend himself. Still Sean wished nothing more, than to take his place at Viggo's side again to guard his back, like he used to do.

A smile lit the prince's face, when he noticed Sean and again Sean felt awe that Viggo was really happy to see him. He knew that Viggo must have guessed some of the things that had happened to his old friend during his capture. It would not have surprised Sean if Viggo had turned away in disgust. There still were enough times when Sean wished to turn away from himself in disgust. He still could not bear to look into a mirror.

"Sean." Viggo's voice shook him from his dark thoughts. "Are you here to safe me from the paperwork?"

At that Sean had to smile again stepping closer to the desk, then bowing deeply. "No, my lord. I fear I bring more. I am to deliver this missive from my master." he said, depositing another scroll on the crowded desk. 

Of course this was just a ruse to give Sean an excuse to go visit Viggo. Sean had watched as Karl rolled up the empty paper, sealed it and then handed it to Sean with a grin. No matter how hard he fought the feeling - slowly, slowly he was beginning to like the captain of the guard.

"How are you, my lord?" Sean asked, seeing that there were lines of worry on his prince's brow and that Viggo looked tired. And of course he preferred talking about Viggo much to talking about himself.

The prince rubbed his temple. "Tired. There is much work to be done. I can't help but admire the Caliph for dealing with all this on his own up to now. He is indeed a very capable man. And he does deserve a helping hand, someone to share his burden."

Sean walked around the desk till he came to stand behind the prince. Gently he placed his hands in Viggo's neck and started massaging the knocked muscles there. Being of service to him felt too natural to resist. 

With a slight smile Sean remembered that Karl was just as grateful for the few moments when Sean felt able to trust the captain enough to grace him with some relaxing massages as well. But never there was more than that between them. Sean knew well how much the captain desired him. That Karl did not press him in any way, was slowly gaining him more and more trust on Sean's part.

With a grateful groan the prince let his head fall forward, enjoying the sensation. After a few minutes Sean felt the tense muscles relax.

"I swear your hands are magic." Viggo sighed happily.

Sean smiled. "You drive yourself too hard, my lord."

Viggo just grunted and Sean continued his work on the prince's neck and shoulder, working out the last kinks. "Where are your two desert kittens?" he asked curiously. "Shouldn't it be their job to see to your well-being?"

He had seen neither of the boys during his visits with Viggo during the last week, but he had never actually noticed their absence, assuming that they were doing whatever it was that Viggo kept them busy with.

"I have given them into training." Viggo answered, his muscles tensing up at that thought. "They were more trouble than help. Neither of them knows how to behave."

Sean stroked his neck reassuringly. "You miss them?" he asked gently.

Viggo nodded, then turned around to face Sean, so Sean could see the longing and sadness in his lord's face. "Yes, very much. I... I did not want to give them away. I know it is better for them and for me... but still my heart just wishes to go and get them back and apologize for ever giving them into the hands of another. Even though I know Ian will not hurt them." With a defeated sigh Viggo let his brow rest against Sean's thigh. 

Sean could not help but pat his prince's head like he used to do when they were both much younger. "I'm sure it will be all right." he said. "Have you checked on them?"

"No." Viggo mumbled, muffled against Sean. "If I go there and have one look at them I know I won't be able to leave them."

At that Sean could not suppress a low chuckle. "You are too soft of heart, my lord." he admonished softly. "Would it please you if I went to check on them and then came back here to report on their well-being?"

Viggo glanced up at his most trusted friend with hope shining in his eyes. "That would please me very much."

Sean sketched a bow and smiled back at Viggo. "Then it shall be done. It is my pleasure to be of service."

\---

The inner yard of the slave training ground was filled with the soft, steady beat on a tambourine, the labored breathing of two slave boys and the tapping of feet on ground. A slave girl sat in one corner, providing the beat of the tambourine, Elijah and Orlando were practicing hard on their dancing skills.

Neither of them had possessed any when they had started their training a week ago but under the merciless tutelage of Master Ian they had learned quite a lot in the short time. That they were both young and agile helped a lot.

Still master Ian was anything but satisfied, calling for repetitions of steps missed again and again till both wished nothing but to drop to the ground in exhaustion. Any thoughts of rebellion had long been drowned by simple lack of energy. Ian kept their minds occupied and their bodies tired.

Ian smiled almost imperceptible. Slowly, slowly they were starting to slip into their role, accepting commands without hesitation. That was the first step, breaking them in was the hardest. Then he would have to put them back together again. After all they were to serve the prince not only with blind obedience but with their bright minds as well.

His train of thought was interrupted by a polite cough from behind him. He had not noticed another slave entering the yard, but when he turned around, he was not overly surprised by the fact.

Although he had not met him so far he had heard quite a bit about the new barbarian slave Sean the captain of the guard kept. There were some rumors that he was somehow connected to the prince, but nobody knew anything definite. Still, Ian thought, it would have been wiser for Karl and Viggo to keep things more secret still.

The slave bowed deeply, but Ian immediately noticed, that it was not the deference of a slave to a noble but of a warrior greeting another. Ian didn't mind. He had been training slaves for years and he was quite able to determine when something was beyond his skills. Nobody would ever make a good slave of this man. He was sure of that.

"Yes?" he asked, curious why Karl had send this man to him.

"My lord Viggo sends me, to inquire about the progress of his two slaves." the barbarian explained.

Ian smiled and pointed at the two boys who had stopped their exercise as soon as Ian turned away from them, both kneeling on the floor now, trying to catch their breath.

"As you can see their diligence still leaves a lot to be desired." Ian said.

He noted with interest the reaction Elijah was presenting when he noticed the blonde slave. For the first time Ian read strong positive emotions in his face, not the usual stony mask of defiance but genuine affection and maybe even longing. So maybe this was a person that the young slave did care about. Something that would definitely be good for him. At least better than trying to shut himself off from all feelings like he had been trying to do for the last week.

"Would you like a little demonstration so you can report to the prince in detail?" Ian suggested, wishing to further study the reaction this Sean had evoked in Elijah.

Sean nodded. "I'm sure that would please the prince."

Ian turned back to the boys and clapped his hands. "Bring refreshments." he commanded and both hurried back to their feet and into the building, while Ian showed Sean to a small alcove, strewn with pillows around a low table.

"There is still much for them to learn but they begin to show sign of progress." Ian explained, when they were both seated. "Tell the prince declawing them is a delicate process if one does not want to hurt them and therefore takes some time."

Sean bowed his head slightly, but Ian still noticed the worry creasing his brow. So there was some affection on his part as well.

"They are fine." he added, this time more for Sean than for the prince, earning him a startled glance from the blonde. Ian just smiled politely.

Then the boys returned, each carrying a tray, managing to look something pretty close to graceful. They knelt next to the table to deposit a pot of tea, two glasses and a plate with iced fruit.

Ian motioned to Elijah to pour the tea as he was much better at it than Orlando so far. But this time Elijah's hands were shaking and he nearly spilled the tea before even getting close to the first glass. 

Gently Ian reached out a steadying hand. Elijah glanced at him under lowered lashes just like Ian had taught him to do. There was much insecurity and emotional turmoil in his eyes. Ian held his gaze, conveying with just his look, that he trusted in Elijah's abilities. For a long moment they looked at each other, Elijah realizing for the first time that his teacher did not mean him any harm. Then he suddenly drew a deep breath, visibly calming himself.

When Ian let go of his hand it was steady again and he poured the tea, smiling at Sean with a lot more coy sweetness than Ian had taught him. Ian suppressed a smirk when he noticed the answering smile from Sean, gentle and somewhat protective. This might indeed prove very useful.

They shared the tea in silence, the boys kneeling close by motionless and attentive.

They cleaned off the table with satisfactory efficiency when Ian and Sean were finished and then withdrew as gracefully as they had arrived.

"Impressive." Sean commented when they were out of hearing range.

Ian shrugged. "They still have a lot to learn." He looked at Sean thoughtfully. "Tell your master that he is welcome to check on them again, if it eases his heart. And should he be able to spare you from more important duties, I would welcome the opportunity to test them on you again."

Sean nodded, bowing his head again. "I will tell him. And also that his boys are well and he need not worry about them. Though I fear he still will."

Ian smiled. "As is the right of any prince worth his title."


	27. Chapter 27

XXVII  
by Mel

”You boys are not listening to me!” Ian sighed, the only real indication that he was frustrated with the two boys. Upon Sean’s departure he had them go back to their dancing practice. They were both getting much better, but it was not Ian’s job to pander them. He was here to ensure they did not embarrass Prince Viggo any more then they already had.

”You may be asked to do any number of things while the Prince entertains his guests, you must be able to go from serving one moment to dancing the next.”

Both of the boy’s concentration had been thrown with the appearance of Sean, now they stood together, heads bowed. The few moments of quiet praise Sean had given them before he left were forgotten. The defiance they both had sported when they had arrived was gone, but the animation was still there. Ian was thankful of the fact. The Caliph’s household was full of slaves, but as a slave trainer, Ian had striven to keep each slave’s personality and spirit intact. It wouldn’t do to break the boy’s spirit.

He watched the two of them with a critical eye. ”You are not able to focus on dancing now, we will have to try something different. Nada, you may go now, I’m sure Liv will have something constructive for you to do.”

The girl stood, bowing to Ian as she took her tambourine, leaving the three of them. Ian crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the two. They didn’t fidget as they had been prone to in the beginning. They stood quietly, awaiting the next order. Ian knew they were becoming close, he was grateful that a rocky trust had seemed to form between the two. It was time to begin to strengthen it.

”Orlando, remove Elijah’s clothing.”

If the taller slave had been expecting something, it had not been that and he hesitated. Both of them simply wore soft pants, the heat was too much and while they were practicing their dancing, shirts just seemed to get in the way.

”Orlando!” the order in Ian’s voice could not be denied and Orlando turned to Elijah.

He stared up at Orlando, blue eyes bright. Orlando found he had desired this since they had met. His hand gently cupped Elijah’s face, though he didn’t kiss him. His hand dragged down the other boy’s body. Elijah actually gasped when the hand passed over a nipple, the sound making Orlando smile. When his fingers reached the loosely tied drawstrings of Elijah’s pants, he looked to Ian for permission before looking back at Elijah. Elijah was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and he nodded a little shakily.

Orlando slid gracefully to his knees before the other boy, tugging the string free. It was the only thing that held the pants in place and as it came free, the pants slid from Elijah’s body, revealing his soft white skin. His arousal grew beneath Orlando’s gaze, arching in front of his face.

”Hold his thighs,” Ian said quietly, moving to a seat not far from the two.

Elijah shivered beneath Orlando’s touch, hooded eyes watching Orlando’s every move.

”Your Master may wish pleasure from either of you in anyway. But we will start slowly first. Blow on the tip Orlando.” He did, making Elijah squirm. He flicked his eyes to Ian. ”Take just the tip into- Yes, that’s very good. Now, the key here is to keep eye contact. ‘Slowly’ requires an intimacy that rough and tumble doesn’t.”

Elijah’s bright eyes had darkened in their lust, they caught and held his chocolate orbs. Orlando could see the trust shimmering beneath the lust. He knew things between he and Elijah would only get better after this.

”Suck lightly, taste him on your tongue, enjoy him.”

Orlando loved the feel of this, of what it did to Elijah. The young man was putty in his hands. He tasted heavenly, salty and sweet, an addictive combination. He sucked and Elijah’s pulse sped up beneath his fingertips. Stroking the thighs Orlando swirled his tongue around the head.

”Draw him in slowly, tease him with your tongue,” Ian’s voice was hushed. ”Let him know you are enjoying this as much as he is.”

Orlando inhaled his scent through his nose before easing down onto him. His tongue danced along the underside, tracing the vein. Elijah groaned, forcing himself not to buck within Orlando’s heat, his body shimmering, the skittish movements arousing Orlando. When Elijah butted against the back of his throat Orlando swallowed him. Orlando purred.

”Perhaps this is an area where you need very little coaching Orlando.” Ian murmured dryly, secretly delighted, ”you truly enjoy what your doing.” Elijah whimpered, hands clenching and unclenching. Ian stood, moving behind Elijah. He took his hands, startling the aroused boy, and slipped them into Orlando’s hair. ”Guide him Elijah, show him what you like, what you need.”

Elijah bucked forward into the purring mouth, Orlando taking it without complaint, thrilled to have both Elijah’s and Ian’s fingers tugging at his hair. He sped up, bobbing lightly. His eyes never left Elijah’s. This time Orlando was going to be sure this time that the only name Elijah would say was his own.

Ian was careful not to touch either of the boys in any other way then he did right now. Even he knew that the trust that this was building could be nothing but beneficial to Prince Viggo in the end. The man truly cared for both boys and Ian could tell how much he regretted having to give up them both. It was a marvel to watch a simple act bring two who were so hostile towards one another become as close as they now were.

”Orlando please,” Elijah made a keening sound, the noise boiling Orlando’s blood, racing through him. He grabbed Elijah’s arse, slamming him forward onto his mouth, sucking hard. Elijah cried out, his fingers digging painfully into Orlando’s scalp. ”O don’t stop,” he bucked as far as he could, Orlando’s bruised lips stretching around his flesh, ”Orlando.”

Orlando loved the sound of his name on Elijah’s lips, and the taste of him as he filled his mouth. He licked, sucking him down, taking all he had to offer as Elijah wailed his pleasure. He went boneless, Ian catching him before lowering him into Orlando’s arms. Orlando nuzzled the flesh at Elijah’s neck, holding his trembling body.

Ian smiled with something almost akin to pride. ”Both of you are to go to the baths, I’ll expect you back in the hour.”

He left them to their after glow. He had someone to talk to and then a date with a cold bath..

******

Elijah had never been more grateful for a hot bath then he was right now. He lay back, watching Orlando through hooded lids.

”Thank you for that.”

Orlando smiled, crawling into the bath with him, gliding over to where he sat. He pressed his lips lightly to the unresisting prince’s. ”You’re more then welcome, I certainly had a wonderful time.”

Elijah grinned, mirroring Orlando’s cheeky smile. He made Elijah feel young again, made him forget those horrible things that had happened in his life. ”Do you think I would enjoy it?”

Orlando’s fingers were playing with the flesh before him. ”I think you would. Did you want to give it a go?”

”Why not?” Elijah ducked beneath the water. Orlando gasped, knowing already that he certainly wouldn’t last long. He didn’t, crying out as he came.

Elijah came up out of the water, smile smug. Orlando kissed it away, taking his taste into his own mouth. ”So did you?”

”You were right, that was fun!”

”I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Orlando snickered, ”little kitty!”

Elijah splashed him. ”Them’s fighting words!”

”Oh yeah?” Orlando splashed him back.

Their hour was spent much like that, basking in each other’s company.


	28. Chapter 28

XXVIII  
by Beryll

The large courtyard was filled with the sounds of swords meeting swords and the glaring light of the afternoon sun. The heat trapped in the walls surrounding the yard rose from the ground making the air waver. 

The white flagstones paving the training yard of the Caliph's palace were well worn. Generations of guard's had trained here.

Prince Viggo stopped in the shadow of the arched entrance and watched for a moment. After Sean had returned to him, telling him that his kittens were fine, he had felt bone deep dread lifting from his spirit. The thought that they would be angry or maybe even hurt had plagued him more than he had realized.

As always Sean had known immediately what would help to take his mind of all the paperwork for a while as well.

Viggo wasn't quite sure he would be welcome to train with the common guards but he had hoped to find Karl here and he hadn't been wrong.

The captain of the guard had stripped down to his billowing pants and was instructing some new recruits. There were four of them going up against him armed with wooden swords and he was easily keeping all of them under control. An admiring smile appeared on Viggo's lips as he watched the man he had come to call his friend twist and turn and strike. And it was not solely admiration of his swordmanship. 

Watching Karl move only added to the heat trapped in the yard. At least Viggo thought so, wiping sweat from his brow. He still wasn't completely used to the temperatures of his new home.

Slowly he made his way along the yard's wall over to where Karl was training, ignoring the curious glances of the guards. The captain of the guard had already noticed him by the time he had got there and had paired off the recruits to train together.

Karl bowed deeply. "My prince." he welcomed Viggo.

Viggo nodded in greeting. "Captain. I have come to realize that I have been somewhat lax in my own training since I have come to this hospitable palace. I would like to get in shape again."

Karl smiled. "I do have to say your shape leaves nothing to be desired." he said, the slightly sleazy note to his voice not lost on Viggo.

"I disagree." Viggo countered, giving Karl's bare muscled chest a long look of appreciation. "I have heard that you have been harassing your men with your eagerness to train, Captain. I would like to divert your eagerness from them to me. Will you oblige?"

"It will be an honor." again Karl bowed. "Though I suggest we move to a more private surrounding."

Viggo couldn't suppress a grin. "Afraid your men might witness your defeat?" he asked.

Karl shrugged. "More afraid they might witness their prince dirtied and beaten." he returned the playful banter, picking up his tunic, armor and weapons.

Together they left the training yard, moving to a small inner court near Viggo's quarters. There Viggo discarded his robe as well, facing Karl wearing only his pants and boots now. 

Slowly Viggo withdrew his sword from its sheath, weighing it in his hand. He hadn't had reason to draw it since he had been found by Karl in the desert. Beside his ring it was the only thing that remained in his possession from the time when he had been a Danish prince instead of an Arabian one. It did look very alien compared to the scimitar Karl held. But it felt just like it always had - like a natural extension of Viggo's arm.

Slowly they went through some simple moves together without actually engaging, just matching each other's moves. They quickly realized how much their fighting styles differed though. And Viggo also felt the weight of the weapon increase in his hands the longer he moved. He really was out of shape.

Finally they stood opposite each other again. Karl saluted him, calm, not even breathing hard while Viggo already felt his arms tire.

"Shall we see who wins this match?" Karl asked.

Viggo smiled. "I fear there is no question about that." he said ruefully. "Be gentle with me."

Karl grinned in answer, then attacked.

For quite a while the only sound in the small court were the clanking of steel on steel and the increasingly labored breathing of the two men.

Viggo fought with the will not to give in to his complaining body. They were of matched skill, that became obvious to both of them quickly, each being able to surprise the other with moves they were unfamiliar with.

The captain of the Caliph's guard moves with the agility of a desert cat and Viggo promised himself, that not only would he train with the man more often but also that he would seek out the times when Karl trained with the other guards so he would be able to enjoy the spectacle of watching him fight when he did not have to concentrate on parrying his attacks.

Sweat was running down both the men's bodies and again Viggo felt a different kind of heat run through his veins as well. Karl exuded an exotic beauty that Viggo found nearly impossible to resist the longer their fight wore on.

Suddenly they were standing so close to each other that Viggo could actually feel the heat of the other man's body, their swords crossed between them, each fighting to gain the upper hand. They remained locked in that struggle, muscles aching but neither willing to give in.

With Karl's face so close that their noses nearly touched Viggo's attention inexorable was drawn to the other man's mouth, slightly opened in an attempt to claim more precious air. And with reckless abandon Viggo leaned forward that last inch and pressed his lips to Karl's.

This startled the captain so thoroughly that he not only lost the struggle but also his footing, stumbling backward, losing the grip on his sword as well as his balance.

Moments later they were both on the floor, Karl on his back, Viggo on top of him. There only was a second of doubt for Viggo, then he saw the raging fire of rising passion in Karl's eyes and Viggo leaned down to claim the other's mouth again.

This time his kiss was returned hungrily. Rational thought seemed to flee the court in a hurry, as eager hands explored hot sweaty flesh, tearing at the meager remains of their clothing. Pure want and need made a lengthy foreplay an impossibility.

A brief struggle ensued with the two warriors rolling across the floor wrestling for supremacy to determine who was going to take who, rank entirely forgotten in this primal moment.

Had Viggo been able to think clearly he would probably have lost this fight, but his body was in command and drew strength from an unknown source, allowing him to gain the upper hand.

Karl gave in with a deep moan, exposing his throat to the victor and eagerly spreading his legs for him. Hungrily licking and biting at the offered throat Viggo took only the absolutely necessary time to prepare his more than willing partner.

When Karl slapped his hands away and instead grabbed Viggo's ass pulling him closer with a feral growl, Viggo didn't hesitate any longer. He pushed into the other warrior in one long thrust, closing his eyes in bliss at the tight heat.

Both men gasped for breath, fingers digging into heated flesh hard, pleasure indistinguishable from pain. They started to move simultaneously, seeking to fan the consuming fire that seemed to run along every single nerve.

Their coupling could only be called frenzied, biting, scratching, pushing against each other as hard as they could in a race to gain completion. Karl was the first to scream his release, followed only moments later by Viggo who felt like the world was going black for a moment as he spend himself deep inside Karl's body.

Breathing hard, eyes still closed they remained locked in their fierce embrace, both trying to calm down enough to face what had just happened between them.

Their efforts were interrupted by a soft cough from the entrance of the small court.

Viggo and Karl practically jumped in opposite directions, each frantically trying to find some piece of clothing to cover themselves, belatedly realizing that they had pretty much ripped what they had been wearing.

"May I suggest you post a guard at the entrance when you undertake a training session next time." Ian's gentle voice broke through their confusion. "Or maybe retire to more secluded quarters?"

Viggo took another deep breath, calming his racing heartbeat. Then he glanced up at the slave master from where he was sitting naked on the ground.

"Sound advice as always, Master Ian." he replied, his voice shaking only slightly. He even managed a smile.

Ian in turn managed to turn his grin into a slight smirk. "Though I must admit it was a spectacular sight."

That comment made both Viggo and Karl blush crimson.

Ian continued unfazed. "Actually it is a nice coincidence that I find both of you here as I wanted to talk to you both anyway." he said. "My prince, there is an issue about those two slaves you have given into my care that I wish to discuss." he changed the subject elegantly.

Viggo fought hard to bend his thought into that direction but he wasn't quite able to ban all of the images of Karl still flitting through his head.

"The two boys make good progress, as I am sure Sean told you. I would like to give them a subject to train on. As you have better things to do I am suggesting Sean take on this duty. Both of the boys seem to somewhat like him. If Karl is willing to lend him to me for this task, that is." Ian explained.

Karl quickly nodded. "Of course. If it pleases my prince?"

All Viggo wanted to say was that he couldn't possibly be pleased more by Karl than he was right now, but he kept his mouth shut and just nodded.

"Good." Ian smiled. "I will expect Sean at the slave training ground tomorrow morning then." He looked first at Viggo then at Karl. "I will leave you now, I am sure you have much more 'work' to do." Then he turned and left the court, looking as dignified and aloof as ever.

Karl got up as well, picking up his tunic where he had put it before they had started training. "I'd better go too." he said without looking at Viggo.

Viggo got up quickly and grabbed Karl's arm, before he could even put on the tunic. "Karl... if this was not what you wanted please tell me now and it will never happen again. But don't just turn from me."

The captain of the Caliph's guard looked up at Viggo in surprise. "My prince, I... this is what I wanted. Ever since I found you in the desert. But I... you shouldn't feel obliged..."

Viggo laughed freely, feeling like a weight had lifted from his heart. He pulled the slightly reluctant Karl into a tight hug. "I don't mind feeling obliged, my friend."

Slowly Karl relaxed into the embrace, then returned it. "Friends?" he asked.

Viggo pushed him a bit away to hold him at arm's length to be able to look into the other warrior's eyes. "Always."


	29. Chapter 29

XXIX  
by Mel

”How long do you think Ian’s going to be?”

”Why would I know?”

”It was just a question,” a rather childish pout followed the statement. ”Ooo something shiny!”

”Where?”

”There, in the corner, near the other towels.”

”It’s a box! Do you think they’ll notice if we opened it?”

”There’s only one way to find out...”

******

Sean entered with Ian. He was a little surprised with the older warrior’s request, as he had actually taken a couple of moments of his time to ask. Sean had the feeling that Ian would have left him alone had he said no.

But Sean had spent too much time alone in Karl’s rooms already. He was a warrior and had not had an idle day since he was old enough to lift a sword. All this time alone and doing very little was sending him quite mad. Too much time to think. So when Ian offered him the chance to be a short test for Viggo’s two kittens, he couldn’t say no. He didn’t want to miss the chance to spend some time with the young prince and the doe eyed thief. It would also be a good chance to truly find out how they were doing for Viggo.

Sean followed the old man, silent in his movements, wondering what he could possibly have in store for him? Viggo had warned him the two kittens could be a handful, and he had much more patience than Sean, he certainly didn’t want to have to look after them by himself for too long. 

They entered the inner courtyard of the slave training grounds. The two boys were already waiting there for them.

Ian was grateful that the two of them were prompt, it was a useful skill Ian did not wish to have to try and teach them. Their heads were bowed, catching the older man by surprise. He paused in front of the boys, lifting Elijah’s head back gently.

Sean gasped but Ian was much better at hiding his surprise and delight. Elijah’s lashes were thick with dark kohl, offsetting his bright blue eyes. His lids were coated in shimmering blue and silver powder and his lips with dark burgundy paste. Orlando’s eyes, which were now also raised, were outlined with kohl. But where Elijah had been blue and silver, Orlando was gold as the sun. The colour dusted over his olive skin, coiling beneath his curls. The alluring contrast between the two was nothing short of amazing.

”Good,” Ian murmured appreciatively, ”you both have some ability in applying makeup. It is going to be rather useful that at least some of Lord Viggo’s personal slaves have your talent.” Both boys could not help the smiles that danced across their faces at Ian’s praise. ”It will also do well now. Captain Karl has lent Sean, of whom you’re both familiar with, so you might practice a few of the skills I have taught you.”

Both Elijah and Orlando glanced at the tall blonde. Elijah’s was a look of friendship, which Sean could not help but return. Orlando’s was not one of hostility but neither was it of any form of closeness. Orlando looked almost suspicious.

”Come,” Ian clapped his hands, drawing their attention. They stood, following Ian as he moved from the room. ”We will practice in the garden till our time is cut short.”

******

Elijah’s table skills required only minor alterations, having lived within his father’s court he knew enough to get by if there were no slaves around.

Orlando’s ability was laughable.

Sean watched as the poor boy drop the jug for the third time, sending the contents flying. He flushed in irritation beneath the powder he wore, eyes flicking nervously to Ian who sat a little way from them. Elijah knelt beside Ian, obviously only slightly succeeding to keep his mirth in check. Sean bit the inside of his cheek lightly, this was the bit he hated.

”Clean that up,” his tone was brisk, leaving no room for argument. Orlando didn’t meet his eyes but Sean could tell most of the boy’s irritation was directed at him. Sean himself was having a hard time being harsh as a master should be. It didn’t help knowing that Viggo would never ask such a task from Orlando, even if it were part of his training.

Orlando mopped up his mess quickly. He was furious with himself, if only for the reason that he didn’t know where this nervousness came from. In front of Ian and Elijah he had been able to preform this task easily, though with none of Elijah’s grace. The moment that he had come in front of Sean, however, he was all limbs, loosing all coordination. 

Setting the table up again he took a quick breath, refusing to focus on Sean, and imagined he was serving Viggo. That helped, and he managed to pour this time without hassle. He handed the drink to Sean without incident and breathed a sigh of relief. Grateful he sat back on his heels as Sean took a sip.

”Better,” Ian’s voice was quiet cold, making Orlando’s stomach churn. ”Again.”

It was going to be a long afternoon.

******

”I am so tired.” Elijah flopped back on the divan, his head landing on Orlando’s thigh, pillowed against the fabric. Almost automatically Orlando’s fingers delved into his soft hair, making Elijah purr gently.

”Do you think we’ll ever get back to Lord Viggo?”

Elijah couldn’t quite stop the snort. ”He was the one who put us here.” He felt Orlando stiffen beneath his skin, fingers flexing slightly in his hair before being removed. Elijah bit the inside of his cheek, instantly regretting what he’d said.

”If it weren’t for the Prince we would have been given to that pig of a Lord to punish.” Orlando slipped out from beneath Elijah. He slipped the vest on that he had taken off when he entered their small sleeping quarters.

”Where are you going?”

”If Sean is here, I will talk to him. At least he will not insult my Lord with every word he says.” And Orlando was gone.


	30. Chapter 30

XXX  
by Beryll

The Caliph's palace lay quiet and mostly dark. The darkest hour of night had already come and gone. Only the sounds of the regular footsteps of the guards patrolling the long corridors disturbed the night along with the cries of some nightbird circling above.

Orlando was wide awake.

Like any good slave should he had rolled up on his pallet after yet another day of hard training but sleep had eluded him.

Three weeks had past since he and Elijah had started training with Master Ian. Three weeks of working harder than they ever had in their young lives. Three weeks of learning all about being a slave.

And each night Orlando had dropped onto his pallet and fallen asleep as soon as his eyes closed.

But not this night. His thoughts circled restlessly around the news that Master Ian had revealed to them after they had shared their supper. That this had been their last day of training. That tomorrow morning they would be returned to Prince Viggo's suite.

And now he was still trying to figure out what he thought about that. He had tried really hard to hang on to the anger he had felt towards the prince when Viggo had ordered him beaten. But the more the marks faded on his back, the more he learned about the duties and tasks of a favored slave and - most importantly - the longer he was separated from the prince, the more his grudge gave way and all that really remained now was the intense feeling of missing the prince.

With a soft sigh he turned over on his pallet yet again, only then noticing with surprise that Elijah had gotten up soundlessly and was now sitting on the wide sill of one of the windows overlooking the training yard. He had his blanket wrapped around himself, his head leaned against the window frame. Orlando couldn't see his face but his posture looked sad.

In the last few days they had been rather cool towards each other. Elijah's constant complaints about Prince Viggo had made Orlando upset. Probably even more so because he still wanted to be angry with the prince for ordering him beaten. Because he should have been the one who complained, not Elijah. Because he constantly had to protect what he perceived as Prince Viggo's honor.

"Lijh?" Orlando asked softly.

"I'm fine, Orlando, just go back to sleep." Elijah answered just as quietly.

Of course Orlando didn't listen, as he couldn't sleep anyway. He got up as well and padded over to the former prince now turned slave.

He sat down opposite Elijah. "You're not fine." he observed. "Are you angry at me?"

Elijah huddled deeper into his blanket. "No. But I thought you were angry at me?" He sounded miserable.

Orlando quietly admonished himself. He knew full well how easily Elijah withdrew into a shell of aloof unhappiness. He should really have addressed this right when it came up.

"I... I was angry. Because you keep insulting the prince. I like Lord Viggo, you know that."

Elijah nodded slowly, blinked at Orlando under long lashes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm just... nervous. That's all."

"Nervous? Because we are going back to the prince?"

Elijah nodded. "Yes..."

"But he's a good man, Lijh. He really is. Just give him a chance to prove it." Orlando nudged Elijah with his foot and the other boy glanced at him, trying hard not to let his fear show.

"I'm scared, Orlando." Elijah admitted. "The prince scares me. I... you know what Master Ian said... that we are to serve him in any way he demands... I just don't know if I can bring myself to... well... you know..." A blush crept into his face.

Suddenly Orlando was able to understand much better what had his friend so skittish. "Well... I don't think the prince would force you. And," he reached over and reassuringly patted Elijah's knee, "I promise to distract him, if he gets to interested in you, okay?"

Elijah blinked at him with huge blue eyes. "You would? But... I don't want you to sacrifice yourself for me..."

Now Orlando laughed. "It's no sacrifice, Lijh. Remember what I told you the first time we met? That I don't want to share him? I meant that."

That made Elijah smile. "He's all yours." he said, looking a little less troubled. Then he started chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. "So... what is it like?" he asked.

"What is what like?" Orlando asked back.

"Well... you know... IT..." Elijah's blush returned full strength.

For a moment Orlando had no idea what his friend was talking about but then understanding set in and he turned red as well. "I... uhm... nice... I suppose..."

Elijah blinked at him in surprise. "But I thought you had... with the prince..."

Orlando shook his head, trying to fight down his blush and look at least remotely dignified. "No... not yet. I... I've never..." 

Suddenly he was starting to feel Elijah's nervousness as well. He hadn't really thought about THAT yet. But the prince surely would want to. And thinking how his hard, muscled body had pressed against Orlando's, the young slave felt searing heat gather in his groin. Maybe he never had, but he realized that he certainly wasn't adverse to trying. Even though it was kind of scary.

"I'm sure the prince knows all about it." he said to Elijah, to reassure himself as much as to reassure his friend.

Elijah snorted sarcastically. "Yeah, I bet he does."

Orlando slapped him playfully. "Hey, don't talk like that about our master. He's a great man." he admonished with a lot less venom than on previous occasions and after a moment of thought added, "And he feels damn good."

Elijah just shrugged. "He still scares me." he said in a small voice.

Orlando again patted his knee. "I told you I'll protect you. And I will. You are my friend."

They sat in silence for a moment. Then Orlando asked: "What about Sean? You seem to like him a lot..."

Elijah blushed yet again. "Yes." he answered, snuggling deeper into his blanket. "But... I think, he's not... I don't know..."

"He seems to like you too." Orlando said.

Elijah shrugged unsure. "You think so? He is so... reserved... I don't want to bother him, you know. He probably just sees me as a little boy anyway."

Orlando grinned. "Maybe you need to convince him otherwise?" he suggested.

"I... uhm... I don't know, if I'm that bold." Elijah muttered.

Orlando grinned wider. "I guess you're not interested enough, then." he said.

Elijah kicked him gently. "Am too." he replied, pouting prettily.

Orlando just smiled back in quiet satisfaction at having made his friend admit to his feelings.

For a long moment the two boys looked at each other. Then Elijah reached out and laced his fingers with Orlando's. "Thank you." he whispered.

"For what?" Orlando asked back a little confused.

"For everything. For being my friend. I've never had a friend and it feels wonderful."

Orlando smiled happily. "You're welcome."

\---

"I have taught you everything you need to know to be proper slaves now. I hope you will make me proud, boys."

Orlando and Elijah were kneeling before him, eyes downcast just like they had been taught, but now both of them looked up with a bit of insecurity written on their faces.

Ian smiled benevolently. "Don't worry, boys, you'll do fine."

"What if we do something wrong, master?" Orlando asked, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

Ian chuckled. "You can't possibly do worse than you did before your training." he said. "And don't think we are done, boys. You will still continue your dancing lessons with me. So if there are any questions..."

Both boys looked reassured by that.

"I will see you tomorrow morning for your next lesson then." Ian said. Then he leaned forward and in a rare gesture of affection tousled first Orlando's then Elijah's hair. "Now run along. The prince is already waiting for you."


	31. Chapter 31

XXXI  
by Mel

Dawn saw Viggo pacing. He was fresh from waking, all tousled and bedridden, still in the pants that he slept in. The man was a nervous wreck, too twitchy to concentrate on anything that required more then a second's attention and it was much too early to even think on going to the training yards to work on his irritation. Karl and Sean would both be sleeping now, or at least they should be.

Viggo should have been asleep to, he had a busy day today. There was much of the Caliph's paperwork to see to, Karl had wanted him to come down and teach some of the guard northern fighting techniques, the Caliph had also requested that he spend some more time with his new brother and sister.

And his kittens were returning today.

Viggo knew without a doubt that that was what had gotten him all riled up and unable to sleep. In all the time they had been gone, Viggo had missed them terribly. Even Elijah whom had not shown the briefest hint of enjoying his company. The whole time they had been gone Viggo had longed for them to be back with him again. He had been careful not to go anywhere near the slave rooms, if for no other reason then if he had seen them, even once, Viggo would have insisted they be returned to his keeping, trained or not.

Sean had been a saviour in his insistence to go and keep an eye on them for him. Viggo ached to whisk them away, but he had resisted with Sean's gentle assurances that they were both well and looked after.

"You must stop doing this to yourself."

Viggo turned, surprised. In his musings he had seen neither Karl nor Sean enter. Both were dressed and Karl's long hair braided. He had noticed the hair had been well kept over the last couple of weeks. Viggo wondered idly if Sean had done it, almost grateful his blonde friend was opening up to Karl enough to do such an intimate act.

"You should both be abed," Viggo managed as he overcame his surprise and continued his pacing. "I am fine."

"You are not," Sean countered calmly. "The thought of your two boys returning has worried you."

"Stop pacing," Karl added, "you hurt my eyes with your constant movement."

Viggo ignored both of them, causing them both to share a glance and a conspirators' smile. Viggo did not see them coming, suddenly Karl's rough hands were beneath his arms, crossed over his chest. Sean's hands were at his ankles, and they were both lifting him.

"What in heaven's name are you doing?" Viggo sounded halfway between outraged and amused. He didn't struggle, not wanting to dislodge Karl and to start the day with a bump on his head.

Both men moved quickly, crossing the courtyard and depositing him almost gently among the pillows. Viggo looked up owlishly at the two men who were scowling mockingly down at him. Their elbows brushed each other as their hands rested on their hips.

"You will not fret on this like some nervous woman!" Karl said. Viggo had to bite back a scratching reply, the look in Karl's eyes was quite serious.

Sean sat with a sigh beside his legs. "Elijah doesn't know yet, but he will adore you Viggo. He has a past to him, he is a young man who has lost everything without any choice in the matter. It will just take time."

Viggo closed his eyes. Even the truth took time for one to believe it.

"And Orlando will forgive you, he did not understand why it had to happen, but I'm certain he does now." Viggo felt Karl slip onto the pillows behind him. Carefully he lifted Viggo's shoulders, pulling him gently backwards so his head was pillowed against his shoulder.

"You must try to stop worrying about such things." Sean whispered, causing Viggo to open his eyes. Wide, worried green eyes watched him. The concern in them made Viggo's breath hitch and he lifted his hand to brush a stray strand of hair from Sean's forehead,

It was the most natural thing in the world for his hand to cup Sean's cheek in his hand, watching in awe as Sean's luminous eyes closed and opened again, almost nuzzling his palm. He drew Sean closer, his wonder increasing, as he didn't back away. His hands landed either side of Viggo's body, Sean's own stretched over the top of him. He brought Sean's face to mere moments from his own where he stopped, holding his breath, blue eyes staring searchingly into green.

Sean pressed forward the extra inch, lips pressing hesitantly against Viggo' s own. Viggo sighed, lips parting silently, eyes closing in reverent prayer. Sean kissed him gently, tongue darting between his open lips, tasting light, still hesitant. Viggo kissed back, lips moulding lightly to Sean's taking his time to learn the gentle pressure and taste of the man against him. Karl watched calmly, his hand slowly stroking Sean's side, the other hooked around Viggo's waist.

Sean pulled back suddenly, eyes wide. He almost looked like one of the deer they use to hunt in the winter. Viggo snatched his wrist even as he tried to scramble backwards.

"Don't run from me, Sean," Viggo's voice sounded heavy and husky to his own ears. Could Sean hear how much he wanted him here? "I want you to stay with me, I have wanted to do that for so long," his voice was a little sheepish.

But Sean didn't seem to be listening as he managed to tug his wrist free. His eyes were full and frightened, something echoed below the surface. Something Viggo hadn't noticed till now, Sean had kept this fear very well hidden. He didn't even seem to be seeing them as he turned, stumbled on normally sure feet and ran.

Viggo moved, intending to go after him, and Karl's arm tightened around his waist. "Let him go, Princeling. He will not run far and you are perhaps the last person he wants to see right now."

Viggo turned carefully in his arms so they were facing one another, looking into heavy amber eyes. "What has happened to him, Karl?"

Karl looked steadily into his eyes, "Sean wished that I keep this from you, even though I've only guessed what could have happened. But you need to know now. Sean's last Master raped him."

Viggo hissed, the slight pressure of breath causing Karl to flinch. Though Karl didn't look away, he wished never to be on the receiving end of such fury. Viggo's body trembled beneath Karl's hands, his eyes burning. Karl's own anger merged with Viggo's.

"Who was he?"

"I do not know," his voice hard, "but I will find out." Karl lent forward, pressing his forehead against Viggo's. "And I will go and find Sean, you need to stay here, or have you forgotten who's coming home today?"

Viggo had not forgotten, in fact he longed to see them suddenly, the comfort that the two young men could offer would be welcome.

"But you are so tense," Karl purred, his voice dropping huskily. "You can't meet your kittens like this, you'll frighten them both away." He teased, drawing a small smile from Viggo. "Perhaps I can 'relieve' a little tension?"

He swooped forward, taking Viggo's lips hungrily between his own. Fire spread quickly through Viggo's veins, heat kindling. He moaned into Karl's mouth.

Karl broke the kiss, latching onto an ear lobe. "Perhaps you should let someone else be the master for a while?"

Viggo's body hummed and he managed a nod, feeling Karl chuckle against his neck. The braids and beads fell beneath Viggo's partly open shirt, tickling his skin, causing him to gasp.

"Perhaps we should move this to your chambers, Princeling, I do not care for a repeat of our last performance." That said, Viggo was surprised to find himself upside down, body thrown over Karl's broad shoulder, staring at his back. Coils of black ink reached out from the small of Karl's back, causing Viggo's arousal to heighten. He sucked at the marked flesh, feeling Karl squeeze his thigh as he moved quickly through the courtyard and into the Prince's inner chamber.

While the courtyard was bright and airy, the inner chamber was lit only by candle light. It was cool mainly due to the fact it was such an enclosed space. Karl knew it would heat up momentarily.

He dumped Viggo's body upon the silk bedding so he's sitting on the edge, delighting in the disappointed mew that passed from his lips as Karl took away his new toy. He lifted the light shirt from Viggo's body, bringing his arms up with it, wrapping the shirt around his wrists. He then pushed Viggo back into the bed, looking down at the ravaged prince.

"You are a lovely sight," Karl purred, Viggo's body arching at the desire in Karl's voice. "So responsive," he fanned his fingers, dragging his hand down Viggo's chest. "So willing to give in to me today."

"I don't," Viggo panted, "always have to best everyone, Captain."

"So I noticed, my Princeling," Karl mused, fingers curling in the waistband of Viggo's pants, pulling the drawstring free with ease. He eased the material down, greatly aided by Viggo, who lifted his hips, trying to get Karl to move faster. Karl would not be rushed, smiling in amusement as Viggo whimpered. "My, you are an impatient thing!"

Viggo actually growled, the sound reverberating along Karl's spine, making his shudder. Eyes hooded in arousal stared up at him and Karl decided perhaps it wouldn't be wise to tease Viggo too much, after all the idea was to relax him.

"Relaxed you shall be."

Karl bent over Viggo, long braids trailing over his already weeping cock, making Viggo whine, hands grabbing at pillows in reach. Karl ran his tongue along the vein, finally tasting the prince as he had longed to since their last meeting.

Viggo was in ecstasy, trying not to rip his bedding as he squirmed against Karl's touch. It had been an awful long time since Orlando had done this for him, and even longer before that. He would not last long, and Viggo wasn't sure he really wanted too.

He kissed the head, the taste of Viggo staining his lips. Karl swallowed him, forcing the thick length into his mouth and down his throat. Viggo cried out, clutching the sheets. Karl hummed, bobbing lightly, holding Viggo's hips down.

"Karl," Viggo gasped his name, robbed entirely of speech. Karl sucked a little harder, making Viggo squirm delightfully, Karl was impressed that he had not torn the shirt apart in an effort to move, as he would have done. But Viggo was always one who surprised Karl.

The gentle gasps and mews were coming from Viggo's lips constantly now, Karl knew Viggo would not last all that much longer and Karl found that notion quite pleasing, sucking harder, fingers roaming from their place on his thighs.

"Karl I'm going to," Viggo couldn't finish the sentence as Karl's questing fingers suddenly passed over his entrance. His body curved, almost completely rising from the bed. He came with a hoarse shout, filling Karl's sucking mouth with his seed. The obscene slurping sounds Karl made caused him to twitch, the cleaning sucks keeping his arousal hard.

He let Viggo go with one final sucking pop, making Viggo groan. The prince watched with hooded eyes as Karl crawled up his body, breath catching at the lust filled eyes that came with that body.

Karl kissed him, ploughing his tongue and the last drops of Viggo's cum back into him. Viggo opened to the delicious onslaught, keening at the taste of his own seed in his mouth, the hungry sound swallowed by Karl's lips.

"Oil?" Karl managed to murmur between kisses.

Viggo's brain had melted and it took him a few moments to process the question. Once he did he broke the kiss, cursing. In Danish. This made Karl rub his arousal against him. "None," Viggo gasped, "there is nothing in any of these rooms that is even useful."

Karl's fingers strummed against Viggo's entrance, appearing somewhat thoughtful considering the arousal that dug into Viggo's stomach. Viggo whimpered into his neck, sucking at the flesh in an attempt to distract himself. "Have you known the touch of a man here?"

The 'yes' was said against Karl's neck as he bit lightly.

"Good."

Karl moved quickly, startling Viggo in his moment of bliss. Hands moved his legs apart, lifting and spreading his buttocks. Viggo felt the gentle ghost of Karl's breath against his entrance. He couldn't possibly mean to- Viggo practically howled as Karl's tongue drew across his opening, teasing the puckered flesh. He chuckled against his skin, causing Viggo to shiver.

Karl continued to wet the hole, holding the Prince still even as he tried to rise to meet the questing tongue. He pressed gently, as he breeched him, happy to find he entered rather easily.

Viggo withered as Karl began a stabbing motion, loosening him whilst he seemingly tried to touch his pleasure spot with his tongue. He had never felt anything this good in all his life.

It was now easy for Karl to slip a finger in. He lifted his head as Viggo hissed while forcing himself to relax. Karl leaned up and kissed him as he continued to ease the wet digit in. Viggo groaned into the kiss, wiggling down on the finger, wanting more. Karl gave it to him.

The walls were infinitely tighter around the second finger, but Viggo's pleased groan into their kiss kept Karl's steady pace. "Karl please, I can not take much more of this," Viggo groaned as the fingers grazed his sweet spot.

"Your wish is my command," Karl laughed against Viggo's lips, slipping his fingers free. The head of his arousal rested against the opening, just enough to tease Viggo.

Viggo arched, pushing his body flush against Karl's, gasping as the head of Karl's cock entered him.

It took all of Karl's will power not to slam into him. "You are certainly testing my control, Lord Viggo."

"I will not break Karl," the whisper was hot against Karl's lips. "I need you now."

"I would not hurt you," Karl had to kiss those lips, feeling Viggo constrict around him.

"I do not care if you hurt me," Viggo growled, wiggling, pulling Karl further into him.

The Captain groaned, biting his lip and pushed forward steadily. Viggo's answering moan sung through his veins. Karl buried his face in Viggo's neck, biting down on the tendon there. Howling, Viggo opened underneath him, allowing the last of his arousal to fill his body. Karl panted, his balls resting comfortably against Viggo's ass, watching as Viggo thrashed beneath him, pleasure and pain scrolling across his face.

"Move," he gasped, legs wrapping around Karl's waist.

Karl rose up, causing Viggo to cry out. He placed his hands on either side of Viggo's head, looking down at the sacrifice laid out before him. The Prince's skin was flushed, hair damp against his skull, arms straining to stay above his head. He kissed the Prince, ravaging his mouth, feeling him whimper against his lips as he pulled out.

Slamming back in caused them both to cry out. Karl's pace was hard, but Viggo loved it, he needed it. His body rocked with the force of the thrusts, hands struggling to keep himself stationary from their position above his head. Karl found his sweet spot, angling so he hit it with each thrust, the keening wails Viggo made vibrating through his body.

Viggo knew he would not last much longer, his nerves already frazzled, mind and body overheating with the shamelessness of the act.

"I wish Sean was here."

Karl was not sure why he said it, but suddenly he longed for the blonde man to be by their side. To be caught in this, drowned in sensation. If anyone deserved this, Sean did.

Viggo pulled his hands free easily, capturing Karl's face between them, kissing him wetly. He arched, body convulsing, his seed drenching their stomachs. With the muscles locking around him, Karl pushed forward, moaning into Viggo's lips as he came within the Prince.

Not letting him go, Viggo continued to kiss him. Karl was not sure if it was sweat, or tears, that were staining his lips. When he pulled back gently, Viggo's eyes were free of tears, though infinitely sadder.

"He will come to us," Viggo whispered, kissing him lightly again. "There is nothing we can force from him."

Karl nodded, he would never dream of such a thing. Withdrawing from Viggo he saw him wince and could not help a dry chuckle. "You will wish you had taken it slow as I had wanted to."

Viggo grinned, "It was worth a little discomfort. I am certainly much more relaxed now."

Laughing Karl's lips found Viggo's before rolling off him. Viggo caught the glimpse of the black ink etched in Karl's back as he stood. Viggo knew one day soon he would make Karl loose control simply by making love to the intricate curves of the tattoo. Karl found his pants, pulling them on, hiding the tattoo from Viggo's view.

"I will bathe quickly, it will not do to find Sean smelling of sex," there was a tired grin as Karl pause at the door, looking back at the bed, seeing the worry lines begin to crease the Prince's face. "Never fear, my Lord, I will look after him."

Viggo's smile was almost peaceful, "then I leave him in gentle hands, even if they are not my own."

"Do not fall asleep," Karl teased, "it would not do for the Kittens to find you such, all ravaged and naked."

Karl ducked out before the flying pillow could hit him.


	32. Chapter 32

XXXII  
by Beryll

Orlando was so eager to get back to the prince's quarters at last, that he nearly lost Elijah on his way there. He only noticed that his friend was dragging his feet down almost the whole length of a corridor behind Orlando, when he turned to talk to him.

Elijah tried to put on a brave smile and caught up to him when he noticed Orlando was waiting for him.

"Don't tell me you're still scared." Orlando admonished.

Elijah shrugged sheepishly, scratching on one of his naked feet with the other. "Can't help it." he muttered.

"He's not gonna eat you, you know." Orlando said impatiently. "Come on," he took Elijah's hand and dragged him behind, "it'll all turn out fine. You'll see."

"Why don't you just go ahead on your own?" Elijah asked unhappily. "I'll follow you. You'll have him all to yourself to celebrate your reunion."

"And explain how I lost you on the way there? Very funny. Stop behaving like a girl and act like a prince for a change. Face your foe!"

Orlando was quite surprised when Elijah drew up straighter. 

"I'm NOT a girl." Elijah grumbled. "And I'm not THAT scared."

Orlando just nodded but inwardly he was smiling. Maybe he had finally found an argument that would get Elijah to conquer his fear of the prince. And maybe when he spent some time with their master he would at last find out that there had never been anything to be afraid of.

A few minutes later they reached the prince's quarters. The central room was empty and there was no obvious sound to indicate where the prince was, either.

"Maybe he's not here?" Elijah asked hopefully. "Maybe he had urgent stuff to take care off?"

Orlando snorted. "He better not. I thought he was looking forward to us returning. At least Sean said so." Then he caught the sound of slight snoring from the bedchamber. "You hear that?" he said to Elijah, grinning. "He's still asleep. Come on, let's wake him up."

This time not waiting for more excuses from Elijah, Orlando slipped through the heavy curtains, separating the central room from the bedchamber. His eyes needed a few moments to adjust to the low light but then he stopped in his tracks and gasped softly.

"Lijh," he called quietly, not to wake the prince on the large bed, "come, you gotta see this."

After another moment of hesitation Elijah hesitantly entered the room as well. He stopped just as surprised, staring at the bed. There their master lay, naked and uncovered, arms wrapped around a pillow, snoring peacefully. That alone would have been a sight to stop at, but he was slightly flushed all over, his hair tangled, his skin covered with a sheen of sweat where it hadn't rubbed off on the bed and his ass showing traces of something else.

Neither of the two boys was entirely sure on how to react to this.

Finally Orlando started giggling softly. "Seems somebody kept him company while we were gone." he whispered.

Elijah shot him an outraged look. "How can you joke about this?" he asked. "We were surely not meant to see him like this."

That made Orlando snicker again. "Well, he shouldn't just have fallen asleep then." he commented without pity. "And I guess we're going to get to see him like this again in the future." he added with an evil glint to his eye.

At that Elijah couldn't decide whether to snicker too or look scared. The expression on his face was quite comical. Orlando quickly covered his mouth with his hands, not to laugh out loud.

"So what do we do now?" Elijah asked, trying hard to keep a least a shred of dignity.

"Wake him?" Orlando suggested.

Elijah blushed violently. "I... uhm... I... you..."

"How about I wake him and you get him some iced fruit?" Orlando amended. "And maybe have a cool bath prepared for him. He looks like he needs one."

Elijah nodded, his grateful smile showing how much he appreciated Orlando taking over the duty of waking their very naked master.

While Elijah slipped outside, Orlando stepped up to the bed and sat on its edge, fondly gazing down at prince Viggo. He looked so peaceful and happy asleep, the perpetual frown that was normally etched into his brow eased away. He also looked just as noble and graceful as Orlando remembered, his skin pale compared to that of a native.

Without thinking Orlando leaned forward and softly kissed his master's brow, feeling his heart swell with love for this man who had quite possibly saved his life.

Prince Viggo stirred in his sleep then, mumbling something, then slowly opening his eyes to blink at his kitten.

Orlando smiled at him openly, then remembered Master Ian's lessons and coyly lowered his long lashes, still keeping his gaze on his master.

"Orlando?" Viggo asked, rubbing his eyes, wakefulness returning slowly. Then he suddenly remembered in what state he had fallen asleep and grabbed a blanket to cover himself, blushing violently, just as Elijah had done only moments before.

Orlando fought hard but a bright grin spread on his face. "Yes, master?" he asked, unable to keep the note of mirth out of his voice.

"Oh, Orlando!" Viggo exclaimed in a mix of exasperation at his own embarrassment and joy at the return of his slave.

Moments later Orlando found himself wrapped in prince Viggo's arms, hugged fiercely against the slightly sweaty chest.

"I was so worried about you." Viggo whispered into his hair.

Orlando deeply breathed in the scent of his master. And that of sex and sweat. With a slight grin Orlando wondered why this scent was only alluring when you had yourself been involved in the act. Gently he separated from the prince.

"I was fine. Master Ian took good care of us and we've learned quite a lot." He wrinkled his nose. "You need a bath, master. Elijah is taking care of preparing one for you."

Again Viggo blushed slightly. "Don't tell me he saw me, too..." he muttered but one look at Orlando confirmed it. "And stop calling me 'master'. Viggo will do."

"As you wish." Orlando said, managing a slight bow even sitting, just like Ian had taught him.

Viggo raised an eyebrow. "Your manners do have improved. Remind me to thank Master Ian." he commented, grinning.

Orlando snorted, looking his prince over, noticing all the tiny signs of neglect. "Well, you need some taking care of." he announced. "And we are now entirely prepared to do so."

\---

Viggo was happy. For the first time since he had come to this alien country he was entirely happy and content. 

He was sitting on the large divan in the central room of his quarters. The room was illuminated warmly by oil lamps hanging from the low arcs leading off to the other rooms. The sun had already set and he had consumed an extensive dinner with Orlando and Elijah.

Orlando was now curled up in his lap, dozing off, and Viggo was idly playing with his locks, while Elijah animatedly told of a training session with Master Ian and Sean that involved Orlando spilling large amounts of hot tea over Sean repeatedly.

Viggo was rather sure that Orlando would have contradicted had he been more awake. He had done so before, when both had told about their time with Master Ian. First Orlando had done all the talking with Elijah sitting by shyly. But when his stories had gotten more and more exaggerating Elijah had started correcting him politely till they had both him chattering noisily, making the rooms Viggo had been living in for quite some time finally feel like a home filled with life.

He was immeasurably happy to have them back and silently vowed, that he would earn Elijah's trust, no matter how long it would take him. The body didn't just have a pretty face, he had a quick mind as well. And Viggo was very sure he wouldn't only prove an asset, he would also be able to talk about art and politics to him to relax his own mind from the tasks heaped on him by the Caliph.

Orlando yawned and then stretched in Viggo's lap and the prince looked down at him, smiling fondly. He really was a big kitten in many ways. But he had claws as well, Viggo reminded himself, that was something better not forgotten.

"Bedtime, love?" he asked softly.

Orlando blinked at his prince sleepily. "Hmm... wanna stay with you." he grumbled.

Viggo smiled and looked over at Elijah, who had fallen silent and was watching, some insecurity having returned to his eyes.

"I guess you wouldn't want to join us, would you?" he asked politely.

Elijah was swallowing visibly, then lowered his eyes to look down at his hands. "If you wish so, master." he said in a small voice.

Viggo's heart constricted at the pain and fear he could hear in Elijah's voice. He longed to take the boy in his arms and soothe his fears. But that hadn't worked when he had tried this morning with Sean. He'd do better to give the boy room and time to breath.

"Only if you wish so, Elijah." he said. "And I don't think you do." He pushed Orlando from his lap gently, got up and then picked up Orlando to carry him off to the bedchamber.

Pausing for a moment in the doorway he looked back at Elijah. "You can always come and join us." he said softly. "You will be welcome even if you just want a place to sleep where you won't be lonely."

Then he quickly turned to give Elijah the privacy to make his own decision.

He had put Orlando down on the bed and was just removing the boy's shoes, when he heard the curtain move behind him.

"Just sleep?" Elijah's voice asked shyly.

"Just sleep." Viggo confirmed and felt his heart glow with joy, when Elijah climbed onto the bed as well, snuggling against Orlando.

He got in as well on Orlando's other side, spreading the large blanket over all of them.


	33. Chapter 33

XXXIII  
By Mel

Darkness filled him.

Hands grabbed him from the darkness, dragging him, trying to stop him from running. Sean ran from them, but the fingers tore at him, biting into his flesh. He could feel them tear at his soul, ripping fragments from him.

Above it all cruel voices taunted him.

”You are worthless, Slut. Tainted. Unworthy of your prince.”

Sean covered his ears, his eyes closed as he ran head long through the darkness, those voices whispering his darkest thoughts.

”You have no right to keep on living.”

Sean whimpered against the words, but his own protests were weak, sending rippling laughter echoing through his mind.

He fell, elbow having connected with the wall, sending him falling against it. Sean was barely able to keep himself upright, landing on the floor, the fall jarring up his spine. His fists hit the wall, pain spiking. But in that blessed moment the voices stopped.

Sean slammed his fists against the wall, harder and harder, drowning out the voices. He was silent in his actions, only the slightest whimper escaping his lips. Finally, the voices stopped, the darkness still filled him but the scratching hands receded.

He lay down, curled around himself, and fell into an uneasy sleep.

*****

Karl was unsure how one could loose someone for almost an entire day. Sean was someone that everyone knew, he was hard to miss. Yet no one had seen him all day. Karl’s own search had sent him all over his Lord’s home, from the stables, to the highest tower his search had found nothing. He was frantic, he could not loose Sean.

Night was coming, the day was disappearing from him, when he heard something that did not fit with the quieting of the palace. A whimper struck a cord in him and he stopped, cocking his head, listening for it, hoping the sound would come again.

It did, the pain shivering up Karl’s spine. He looked for its source. A terracotta urn decorated the hallway, and poking out from the back, catching the last of the evening light, was a single pale foot.

Karl’s heart jumped. Sean.

Coming around the other side of the urn he found Sean curled around himself, bloodied hands covering his ears. He slept, caught up in something that pained him, caused him to twitch and whimper. Another tug at Karl’s heart and he reached out, gentle fingers brushing against the blond slave’s cheek.

******

”My little slut,” the voice hissed in his ear, raw with its own need and passion. An angry hand curled around his cock even as the man’s arousal forced itself deep into his body. Sean screamed behind the gag in his mouth, unable to even voice his pain. And yet his body, scarred and bleeding from the whipping he had received, reacted to the warmth of the hand around him. His cock grew, hardening under the expert touch.

The voice laughed in his ear, reaming harder, tearing his body open. Blood trickled down his thighs. ”Whore,” the tone was almost affectionate, alien under the onslaught, Sean’s eyes closed, tears seeping out from beneath the lids.

”Open your eyes!” Sean could only obey as the hand squeezed painfully on his cock. ”That’s it, slut, remember, no one else will ever touch your tainted hide. Your body belongs to me.” His other hand ripped the gag from Sean’s mouth. ”Now scream for me, slut.”

Sean could only scream as he pounded into him, stripping his soul bare, tearing him in half.

Through this waking nightmare he felt gentle, ghosting fingers touch his face. Easing something within him. Through the darkness his eyes opened.

*****

Karl winced as Sean suddenly screamed out. His body racked within his nightmare, struggling against the bonds that held him tight. Karl’s gentle fingers stroked his skin, caressing lightly, but he made no other move to wake him from the dream. Karl knew he would wake when the nightmare met its end, and that he would be by his side when he did.

Almost as if feeling the call of his soul, Karl watched as Sean shuddered one last time, his eyes parting as he did. The soft noise that passed from his lips as his eyes cleared from the visions that plagued them tore at Karl’s heart. His hand cupped Sean’s jaw as the blonde man looked up at him.

Tears slipped silently from green eyes, though he didn’t speak. In fact, Sean’s whole form was silent, still. Karl held his breath, almost fearing the violent reaction he expected. It didn’t come.

He lay there quietly before leaning carefully into Karl’s touch. Karl’s breath escaped him, thumb caressing Sean’s cheek gently. He kissed the heel of the hand gently, eyes closing in something a kin to surrender. His voice was heavy and broken when Sean finally spoke.

”Take me home, Karl.”

*****

Sean was too light.

Karl carried the tall man’s body into his room much too easily given his size. Was he not eating? The thought scared Karl beyond measure. He was curled around him, Sean’s head resting against his chest, legs and back supported in his arms. Sean slept, though not as uneasy as before. A healing sleep. Karl was relieved.

Pausing in the hallway he had to choose now where to go. Right would lead him to the Princes chambers and possible true healing. The left was to his quarters and uncertainty. Sean could wake wanting either of the possibilities, and perhaps this trust that was forming between them would be lost. The Prince would wish to know that Sean was safe, and he was certain the Kittens would enjoy seeing him.

”Take me home,” Sean breathed against Karl’s shirt, ”with you.”

Karl needed no other encouragement, going to the left. His rooms were in need of a clean, but he placed Sean gently on the bed. The half sleeping man rolled into a small ball, making Karl’s heartache for him. Sean had been through so much, he deserved so much more. Karl went to leave him to his sleep.

Sean caught his shirt. ”Please don’t leave me.”

Karl paused for just a moment before shucking his shirt and crawling into bed behind Sean. Sean made himself comfortable, his back pressed to Karl’s front. Karl’s hand rested lightly against Sean’s heart as he slowly fell to sleep.

Karl knew two things for certain as Sean’s breath began to even out. He was falling in love with this blonde warrior. And the man who had hurt him would pay dearly for it.


	34. Chapter 34

XXXIV  
by Beryll

Viggo wasn't quite able to say what exactly had woken him up. He was vaguely aware of a shadowy figure moving on the bed. Content that it was either Orlando or Elijah he was about to drift back to sleep, when a sudden shout brought him to full awareness in the blink of an eye.

"NO!" It was Elijah's voice, filled with dread and panic and anger.

Sitting up and reaching for any kind of weapon simultaneously Viggo tried to make sense of what was happening around him.

The shadowy figure was poised above him for a moment, the gleam of metal in his hand ready to strike. But then Elijah flung himself at the assassin, both of them toppling from the bed in a heap of limbs.

It only took the assassin a moment to fight off Elijah, shoving the boy back violently.

Viggo could hear the pained yelp of Elijah but the boy had given him the time he needed to focus. When the attacker jumped back on the bed, Viggo was ready for him. His fist impacted with the stomach of the assassin hard and the figure fell to his knees with a surprised 'uff'. Viggo did not wait for him to recover.

He grabbed the wrist of the hand still holding the dagger and twisted it till the assassin let go. Somewhere in his mind it registered, that his foe was by far not as strong as he would have expected. Quickly wrestled the assassin down, pressing his face into the bed, one of his arms painfully twisted behind his back.

Only when he was sure the attacker was firmly under control, did he shout: "GUARDS!"

"Elijah? Are you all right?" he then asked worriedly.

A groan answered him, followed by a confused and sleepy Orlando asking: "What's happening?"

"Orlando, go and get us some light in here!" Viggo commanded. "And see if Elijah is hurt."

He needn't have bothered as guards rushed into the room, carrying oil lamps, their naked swords and deeply worried expressions. It suddenly dawned on Viggo, that he had been extremely lucky. If Elijah hadn't reacted so fast, he would probably be very dead now.

One look at the boy showed him, that Elijah was sitting on the floor, slightly bleeding from where he had probably hit his head but otherwise unharmed.

"Your Highness, are you all right?" one of the guards asked, quickly stepping up to the bed.

Then Viggo looked down at his attacker for the first time, noticing that it wasn't much more than a boy either, maybe of Orlando's age. He had quit struggling but was still breathing hard.

"I'm fine." Viggo reassured the guards.

"He's alive?" one of the guards exclaimed. "Oh my lord, we've never caught an assassin alive so far. Finally we'll be able to question one to find out who is behind all this."

Orlando had at last sat up next to him, blinking into the sudden light. He was about to scramble off the bed to look after Elijah, when the guards helped Viggo to pull up the assassin without giving him a chance to escape. Orlando's eyes went wide.

"Dominic?" he whispered, his voice filled with awed surprise. "DOMINIC!" he then shouted, ready to hug the other boy, still held prisoner by the guards. Only Viggo's strong arm held him back.

"Orlando?" the assassin asked just as surprised. "You... you're alive?"

Viggo looked from one another, trying to make sense of the exchange.

"Of course I'm alive!" Orlando answered, trying to pull free of Viggo without paying him much attention. "What are you doing here?" Then it finally registered, that guards were holding the other boy and what he had tried to do. "Oh Allah." Orlando stared at the assassin in shock. "Why...?"

Confusion and anger were battling on the face of the other boy. "I thought you were dead! They said the prince had... you were..." He looked at Orlando, clearly noticing that his friend looked quite unharmed, then at Viggo who was slowly starting to understand what must have happened.

Orlando turned to Viggo too, his eyes huge and imploring. "Master... he... he didn't mean that... he didn't know... he's my friend."

"He tried to kill me." Viggo said quietly, fully aware that the boy must have been set up to believe Orlando dead. He had been used. But even knowing this, Viggo couldn't just let him go. Crime had to be punished. And if the boy knew anything about who was behind the assassination attempts on his adopted sister and brother, he would personally torture him to find out.

"Lock him up and make sure he can't escape or kill himself." he told the guards. "But don't touch him! I will personally see to this in the morning."

The guards dragged the young assassin out of their prince's rooms quickly, leaving him alone with Elijah and Orlando.

"Viggo... please..." Orlando took his hand, "he was doing this for me..."

Viggo sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes, then pulled free of Orlando, got up and went over to Elijah.

"Should I get a healer for you?" he asked the boy, who was still looking a bit dazed.

Elijah blinked two times and then managed to focus on Viggo. "I saved your life." he said, sounding rather confused at that fact.

Viggo smiled. "Yes, you did. And I am deeply grateful. It is a debt I shall honor."

That brought a shy blush to Elijah's face.

"It was a brave act indeed." Viggo continued, helping Elijah to his feet and then settling him back onto the bed. "Let me check that wound, little one." He got one of the lamps closer, inspecting the wound. "Get me some water and clean linen." he told Orlando, who obeyed quietly, obviously very scared for his friend.

It didn't take Viggo long to clean the wound and by then it had already stopped bleeding and Elijah had regained his balance.

"Thank you." he said when Viggo was done.

Viggo smiled at him. "I thank you." he replied.

"What... what will happen to the assassin now?" Elijah asked, after exchanging a quick glance with Orlando, who had been sitting on the bed the whole time, worriedly chewing on his lower lip.

"He will be questioned and then punished." Viggo said, sensing silent understanding pass between his two kittens.

"Punishment for attacking a noble is beheading." Elijah said, making Orlando wince.

"Is there nothing you can do to save him?" Orlando implored, scooting closer to Viggo.

Viggo looked from one to the other. "So he can try again?" he asked sarcastically.

"He only tried to avenge Orlando." Elijah pointed out. "I would probably have done the same in his situation."

"So would I." Orlando agreed.

"And what do you two suggest I do with him?" Viggo asked. "Just let him go free? Do you know what that will do to my reputation? I must be seen as strong, kittens, whether you like it or not."

Orlando hung his head in defeat but Viggo could see Elijah's quick mind hard at work in his bright blue eyes.

"You could keep him." Elijah suggested after a moment of thinking. "Say that death would be too generous a gift for an assassin. Say that you will keep him to see that he suffers as much as he deserves."

Viggo blinked at him in consternation. "Keep him? Here? With you two?"

Elijah nodded and then Orlando attached himself to Viggo's side, his huge brown eyes begging and slightly brimming with tears in a shameless display of manipulation. "Please...?" Orlando's voice went straight to the soft spot in Viggo's heart, making refusal nearly impossible.

"I... uhm..." Viggo tried hard to find a good explanation why this way not a good idea and to his surprise found none whatsoever. The fact that he clearly remembered that firm, lean body of Dominic pressing against his didn't help either.

"I will talk to the boy in the morning, see if he is sorry for what he has done and if he is willing to reveal who send him. Then I will decide."

"Can I visit him?" Orlando pressed his luck.

"No." Viggo stated firmly. "I will take care of this."

Orlando looked like he was about to say more, but a gentle kick from Elijah shut him up. Again they exchanged looks and Viggo realized with amusement that they were quite apt at silently communicating without him understanding.

"Let's go back to sleep." he said yawning. "Seems my busy day tomorrow just got even busier. I need the sleep."

Orlando and Elijah agreed without argument. And Viggo noticed with quiet happiness that this time it was him who was lying in the middle, one of his kittens cuddled into each of his arms. Somehow the fact that Elijah had saved him had earned him more of the boy's trust. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard after all to win him over.


	35. Chapter 35

XXXV  
By Mel

Dominic could not believe he had been tricked. He was not a novice to liars and swindlers, he knew every time someone was leading him on. He knew when to be led on and when not to be.

Perhaps it had been the loss of Orlando that had clouded his judgement. Orlando was by far his best and closest friend, on the streets they had often worked as a team, getting each other in and out of trouble. For all his thievery, Orlando was the most honest person Dominic knew. Orlando had never lied to him, nor buttered up anything. In all his life, Orlando had been the one thing that had meant anything.

And then he had disappeared. Dominic had been frantic for weeks, all he had had to go on was rumors and lies of the European Prince taking his Orlando to the palace and making him his own. The very thought of this... man using Orlando made his blood boil. He had thought the man in black had been telling him the truth when he said Orlando had been killed by the Prince. He had wanted the Prince dead, and Dominic in his fury offered to do it for free.

Now that he thought about it, it was quiet clever really. Playing on Dominic’s pain and anger, offering him the revenge he wanted. And then scoring the one part of the deal that insured Dominic would never have to see him again. Brilliant. Dominic almost wished he’d thought of it.

Except now his head lay on the line and Dominic quiet liked his head where it was.

He kicked himself for not noticing Orlando sooner, he’d seen the boy sleep often enough, he had thought he would have recognised his form. Then he could have woken him up and spirited him away with out waking the hell cat on the other side of the prince. What was this place coming to if concubines were becoming bodyguards?

He hadn’t been chained to a wall in solitary confinement for a while. Dominic was quiet miffed, he was certainly beyond this sort of treatment. But it was what he got for getting caught. Note to self: do not take foolhardy assignments in the heat of the moment.

Dominic could not wait to get out of here and slit the man’s throat for setting him up. With the speed the moon was moving, which he could see creeping through the window, the sun would be up in a few hours. It should be long enough. Dominic grinned to himself, twisting his body so that one of his hands could reach his head, carefully extracting the clip hidden in his hair. You could certainly tell the guards that had yet to be trained personally by the Captain of the Guard. They were always remarkable lax in such matters. Karl’s guards would have noticed it in one moment.

All in all, Dominic thought as he moved his wrists to attack the locks, it promised to be a very eventful day.

*****

Viggo woke with two kittens curled around his body. In their sleep, both Elijah and Orlando had wrapped themselves around him, clinging to his body in a way Viggo found most endearing. Elijah’s head rested underneath his chin, Orlando on his chest. One of Elijah’s hands was beneath his neck, fingers curled around his pulse. Orlando was treating both he and Elijah as human pillows, his whole body strewn over the two of them. The other of Elijah’s hands was dangerously close to Viggo’s growing erection.

Though he hated to, Viggo knew he would have to move, and quickly, lest he wake either of them up in a way that would certainly not go down well. Besides, Viggo’s face grew cold, he wished to deal with this assassin without either of the Kitten’s input. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, the boy was in need of punishment. He could have been tricked into attacking his adopted Brother and Sister. And they could not look out for themselves as Viggo could.

Moving carefully, he managed to slip out from beneath the two, watching in amusement as both boys rolled to each other, seeking his warmth unconsciously. They settled for wrapping around each other. Light and dark they made the tempting image, and Viggo almost succumb to crawling back into bed. Instead he busied himself with getting dressed as quietly as possible, resolutely not looking at his two kittens in the bed.

Leaving quickly he knew there would be hell to pay when they woke and found him gone, with no extra chance to try and ease the punishment for the other boy. It was something that he needed time to think about what to do that he simply did not have. When Hugo awoke and would hear of the assassination attempt, if Viggo had not done something, Hugo would do it for him. The boy would be dead by the end of the evening.

He paused in his courtyard, taking a moment think. Sighing he found a quill and some parchment. This decision required another head, and if Orlando knew this boy, perhaps Karl did too. Viggo finished the short letter and greeted the guards at the entrance to his rooms.

”Will one of you see that the Captain receives this and reads it right away?” One man bowed, taking the letter and moving silently down the hall. The other man led Viggo to the dungeons.

Hugo was a fair ruler but by no means a weak one. There were times when examples had to made, when people had to be imprisoned for their crimes. Still, dungeons caused shivers to run the length of Viggo’s spine. These small rooms beneath the sand, where one earth tremor could collapse many levels, prisoner and guard buried alive.

Thoughts of Sean came unbidden to his mind. His friend had often teased him unmercifully for his fear of enclosed spaces. It was a joke between them, even though Sean had been by his side every time the elements had driven them to seek shelter in a cave. Often the other man had slept wrapped around him, as if his own body would have protected him should the roof have caved in.

He missed him and wished nothing more for his guidance right now.

The guard stopped by a door on the second level down, two other guards standing to attention at the door. He spoke quickly to them, gesturing to the Prince. They nodded and one unlocked the door.

If Viggo hadn’t already been so high strung about being beneath so much sand and stone, he did not think he would have reacted quickly enough.

The door slammed open suddenly, the heavy wood sending a resounding crack through the hallway as it collected the guard who was opening it. Viggo caught sight of the small body dancing around the stunned guards, even as they attempted to draw their swords to give chase. The boy went to dodge around Viggo, but Viggo was already turning, his hand snaking out, snagging a wrist.

The boy snarled, twisting, heel coming up. Viggo back peddled, the base of the foot clipping his nose, but he did not relinquish his hold on the wrist. Elijah must have caught him off guard last night, because, even with his small frame, the little assassin was a force to be reckoned with.

Viggo was a stronger force entirely.

He could see the calculating, the deep intellect of the assassin in his stormy grey eyes. This boy knew he didn’t have long to waste before all chances of escape were impossible. The other hand came up, the boy throwing his weight behind the punch. Viggo caught the hand, forcing himself not to rock backwards at the strength behind it. Instead, he pushed forward, shoving his body into the boy’s personal space, giving him no room to manoeuvre around him.

The move surprised the boy, caught of guard he stumbled, then fell, backwards. Viggo let his body fall with him, landing on top of the boy. He smiled wolfishly when he grunted in pain, this Dominic would learn quickly not to cross him again. While the boy was still surprised, Viggo sat up, pinning both hands above the boy’s head, straddling the boy’s thighs. His other hand bore down on the prisoner’s throat, cutting off the air supply.

”Have you quiet finished resisting?” Viggo asked quietly as the boy tensed beneath him.

In the dim light Viggo got his first proper look at the boy. He was surprise that instead of the dark hair he was use to seeing, this boy’s hair was sandy. It was short and scruffy against his head, in dire need of a wash. Unlike Orlando and Elijah, this boy was a fighter, he had made the most of his slight form, scars prickled his flesh. There was a small tattoo that peaked out from beneath the low riding waistband of his pants. It was a symbol of some sort, and it bore questing later.

The boy nodded, fight leaving his body. Viggo relinquished the hold on his neck, but remained a top of the boy.

”Prince Viggo!” The guards were by his side, swords drawn, the one who had delivered the message to Karl joining them. ”Are you alright?”

Viggo waved his hand, holding the boy firmly beneath him. ”I am fine, I was under the impression the prisoner was restrained.”

The guards seemed unable to come up with a response. The boy was grinning.

”Very well,” Viggo was frustrated, this was not exactly what he had been expecting. ”Where is the Captain?”

”He sends his apologies, Sire. His slave is sick and he is unable to leave his side. He said you would know why.”

Though nothing changed in Viggo’s demeanour, his emotions raged. Karl was alone with Sean, and he could not drag himself away. What was happening? Was Sean all right? Or was Karl taking advantage of his friend?

The boy’s wrists were, unfortunately, beneath Viggo’s hand and he flinched as Viggo squeezed on them unconsciously. Viggo took a mental breath, he had more faith in Karl then that. It was not unlike he and Karl had not already slept together. He even knew that Karl would never do anything Sean did not already want to do. Still, the thought stung, and Viggo wanted nothing more then to be beside both of them right now.

”Yes,” Viggo’s words were dry, ”I will question our guest now.” He stood suddenly, lifting the assassin bodily by the wrists. Thankfully, the boy was smart enough not to complain about the treatment. ”Stand watch at the door, but do not interfere. Should someone come looking for me, tell them I will not be too long.”

Viggo all but threw the boy into the room, shutting the door behind him.

*****

Well, Dominic thought, rubbing the back of his head, that didn’t go quiet to plan. Not that there had been much of a plan to begin with. In all honesty, he’d just been winging it, hoping to make it back to the Prince’s rooms, get Orlando out, and high tail it out of there. Some of his best plans had worked like that before, when he seriously hadn’t had the time to think of anything better. Of course, he had never had to deal with a European Prince whose fighting skills matched the Captain’s, but were so alien to him that he would require much more study before Dominic could ever hope to best him.

Of course, that rested on whether he actually got to see the next day.

Dominic mentally sighed, his father was going to be far from impressed.

All of Dominic’s hopes now rested on this one Prince. The Prince whose nose he had just kicked. This didn’t bode well for him.

The Prince Viggo was not what Dominic expected. Firstly, he had not chained him back up, which would have been the first thing Dominic would have done. Instead he lent against the door, blue eyes following his every move. The unconscious confidence that Dominic had no hope of besting him was most unnerving and it took all of Dominic’s skill not to twitch under his gaze.

”Tell me of the man who hired you.”

The words booked no argument and Dominic decided the best way to keep his neck was to comply completely.

”He was as tall as you, Sire, and dressed in black that hid his face from me. But he spoke as a nobleman, not some savage.”

The Prince said nothing for a moment and Dominic actually fidgeted. Fidgeted! He hadn’t done that since he was a child.

”Will you see him again?”

Dominic winced, ”no Sire, I offered to do this job for free. He had no reason to see me again.”

Something flashed in the Prince’s eyes and Dominic was not quiet sure what to make of it. ”Why?”

Dominic thought for a moment but decided this man would see through any lie he could make up. The truth, however, sounded more absurd then any lie he could have come up with. Dominic let loose a silent prayer that the Prince was truly noble. ”The man convinced me you had killed Orlando.”

”If he had told you to kill my siblings, would you?”

Dominic’s shudder was real. ”No sire, I do not murder children.”

There was silence, the Prince’s eyes watching Dominic. Damn it all, this man had to be the most unreadable person Dominic had ever met. It was most infuriating. Dominic had always prided him self in being one of the best ‘crooks’ in the business. Almost everything he touched seemed to favour him. He could read everyone and every situation like he could the back of his own hand. Except this man!

”You have left me with the most interesting conundrum, little assassin.”

Dominic couldn’t quiet tell if it was a good conundrum, or a bad one. He was certainly hoping for a good one. And why couldn’t he say ‘puzzle’ like everybody else? Dominic guessed he probably did it just to irritate him. Still, Dominic kept quiet, guessing talking certainly wouldn’t help his case.

”For your attempt to assassinate a nobleman rightly you should be beheaded.” Dominic flinched, there was that ‘B’ word he hated. ”But you are, if nothing else, honest in what you say. Even though you may have meant me harm, there is no malice in you towards my father or siblings, nor do you know the man that would have us killed.” Viggo sighed. ”In attacking me you have put me in a difficult position to do anything other then have you killed. Being an assassin, you must know a little about politics, so you would know the loss of choices you have left me with.”

Dominic knew it only to well, and though he longed to play his last card, he knew it would ruin everything he had worked for.

”However, Elijah has spoken out in your favour, and has given me an alternative.”

Dominic wondered who this Elijah was. It couldn’t be the harem boy! No noble man took advice from a slave. This Viggo was certainly an interesting addition to the court.

”You will agree, willing and right now, to be come part of my harem. For pretences, everyone will believe I do so to make your life a misery, that death is to good for you. You will stay with Orlando and Elijah, but you will loose any freedom you had and I will brand you as my own. Should cause any mischief in this position I am offering you, I will not hesitate to have you killed.”

The harshness of the words made Dominic blink. Die via beheading or live a life of servitude. He mentally shrugged, he could do a lot worse and his work had required prostitution at one point or another, he was quiet good at what he did, or at least that’s what his customers had said. Besides, it gave him the chance to figure out an escape plan for Orlando and himself.

Dominic fell to his knees, his head bowed. ”I will serve you, my Prince, as best as I am able.”

He saw the Prince’s soft boots come into view. A gentle hand reached out and lifted his chin. ”Do not make me regret my leniency, young Dominic. I have no wish to kill you, I know you were only attempting to protect Orlando, as I have done as well.”


	36. Chapter 36

XXXVI  
by Beryll

Karl soundlessly closed the door behind the leaving guard, the puzzled expression on the man's face still clear in his mind. He was more than a little puzzled himself.

The part of him that was all duty and sensibility still maintained that he should be hurrying to his prince's side right now. After all Prince Viggo had specifically asked for him. 

But for once his heart had overruled duty. Prince Viggo was quite able to take care of himself, Karl was sure of that. But Sean had asked Karl to say, had for the first time reached out seeking comfort, showing a sign of trust. And Karl did not want the other warrior to wake up alone, abandoned. Even if that meant defying his prince.

Tiredly rubbing his jaw he headed back to the bed chamber, sitting on the bed again, gazing down at the sleeping form of Sean.

The man had curled up under a thin blanket, his face hidden in the crook of his arm, blond hair fanned out over Karl's own pillow. How delicious this image would have been, hadn't Karl spend most of the night holding Sean in a tight embrace, running soothing circles with his hand on Sean's back when nightmare after nightmare held him in a choking grip.

Karl was pretty sure that so far Sean had not dreamt so much and some part of him feared that this was not a first sign of recovery. That instead Sean was finally breaking apart.

Over and over again he had firmly told himself to ban that thought from his mind. He would help the other man through this. Even if he had no idea how to.

His fists clenched at the thought what must have been done to Sean to bring such a strong and courageous man so close to destruction.

He had seen other slaves abused by their masters. But whatever had happened to Sean, it must have been more than simple beatings and occasional rape. Somebody had invested quite some effort into breaking the warrior. And whoever it had been, he had come damn close.

As soon as he could spare the time he would go down to the slave auctions and inquire about who had sold Sean. Not only because he had promised Viggo to do so. The time he had now spent with Sean in so close quarters had woken feelings in Karl's heart that were dangerously stronger than simple sympathy or the order of his prince to care for Sean.

In Sean Karl saw everything that he strove to be. Only there was a terrible crack running through that perfection, a crack that threatened to break Sean apart and leaving only a shattered being without purpose or joy in life.

But that was not what had made Karl's heart ache through all of the last night. He was not really ready to accept what was growing in his heart. But he knew now how Prince Viggo could say that he loved Sean.

With a low groan the reason for all his worries shifted on the bed and Karl moved closer to hold Sean again, should another nightmare torment him.

But this time Sean slowly opened his eyes, the green of them still cloudy with sleep. For a long moment they looked at each other, no real expression on either of their faces but a strange feeling of peaceful calm between the two of them.

Then a small frown appeared on Sean's brow.

"Captain?" he asked, the voice hoarse from all the screaming he had done this night and probably didn't remember. He glanced at the open doorway to the balcony and at the bright sunlight streaming through it. "Shouldn't you be on duty?"

Karl couldn't help but smile. That was probably the silliest question he had heard in a long time. And the same one he would have asked in Sean's position.

"You asked me to stay. So I stayed." Karl explained calmly.

Sean blinked at him in confusion. Then Karl could watch as a pained shadow seemed to settle on Sean's face, as he started to turn away in a mixture of shame and tired despair.

Without thinking Karl reached out and pulled Sean back into his arms. For a moment the other warrior seemed on the verge of struggling, of lashing out again but then he relaxed against Karl, sighing almost soundlessly.

"I'm sorry." Sean whispered.

"Don't be." Karl answered just as softly. "You have been wronged. There is nothing for you to be sorry for."

Then he felt his heart grow cold in horror as he heard Sean's next words.

"I have not been a good slave for you. If you still want me, take what you want."

Barely able to hold his rage in check, he pulled Sean back by the shoulders, looking into his face, noting the utter defeat there.

"NO!" the word burst forth from Karl and Sean flinched back. Karl violently shook the other man, now realizing how dangerous close to the edge Sean was. "SEAN! Look at me!" He grabbed the other man's chin, forcing him to look in his eyes. "You are strong! You are safe now! Don't give up now! Hit me, fight me, anything! But don't give up!!"

Karl's heart felt torn and ripped at the mixed fear and defeat still dominating Sean's face.

"No..." he repeated, much softer, realization dawning that he didn't know how to fight this foe. "Please..."

Not able to bare the look on the other man's face and not willing to show that tears where threatening to spill over he turned away. "Sean... Don't let them win..." he tried a last time, "breaking you was all they ever wanted. Don't let them win... please..."

They both remained motionless for what seemed like forever to Karl. He simply couldn't bring himself to look at Sean again.

Then Sean spoke and Karl's heart leaped at the hint of curiosity in his voice. "You care? Why do you care?"

Still not looking at Sean he answered. "Of course I care. I would be honored to call you my friend, honored to win your trust, honored to fight by your side."

Now there was pain in Sean's voice again but also some of the fire that Karl had loved in the other man from the first moment he saw him. "You would fight beside a whore? I am dirty... soiled... You don't want me..."

Karl turned back to Sean, fury making him careless, letting Sean see that his eyes were brimming with tears. "Of course I want you!" he said, his voice shaky. "I want you, soiled or not. I want you no matter what you are. I would do anything to see you restored. To see you proud and tall and strong again. I want you as I crave air to breath or a ground to walk on. I..."

He was interrupted as Sean suddenly leaned forward, pressing his lips to Karl's kissing him with the urge and longing of a drowning man begging for air. Kissing him hard and passionately, Sean's hand came up to grab Karl by his many braids, sucking the air from Karl's lungs, invading his mouth his tongue and breath, robbing Karl of any kind of control.

Leaving Karl gasping for air, his head swimming at this sudden turn of events, as Sean pulled back as violently as he had initiated their kiss, staring at Karl with huge eyes, their green the color of fresh leaves.

Karl was breathing hard, trying to find anything to say, trying to read what he now saw burning in Sean's eyes, feeling relief that it was definitely not defeat anymore, feeling a stirring of fear at the strength of his own emotions, his own longing.

Sean raised his hand to his mouth, touching his own lips, then blinked and exhaled slowly.

"You want me." he whispered. But this time it was not a question but a statement, filled with wonder. 

And Karl didn't miss that it was the last word Sean emphasized. He did not dare say a word, afraid that he would break the fragile strength Sean seemed to draw from his realization.

Then a small smile showed on Sean's lips. The first smile Karl had seen on him that actually fully reached his eyes.

"Thank you." Sean said simply.

And Karl nodded, knowing that the first and most important step of Sean's recovery had finally been made.


	37. Chapter 37

XXXVII  
by Mel

Dominic cringed every time he took a step. It wasn’t any worse then the time he’d broken his arm falling from a window, but the hit to his pride certainly smarted a lot more. On his right hip, just above the waistband of his loose pants, was the scorch mark of a ring two snakes, one eating the other. Dominic had wondered at the choice of the brand, until he had seen the Prince’s ring. It matched it. There was no way you could confuse who owned Dominic now.

Damnit all, if that didn’t make escape just that little bit harder.

Dominic didn’t look at the still burning flesh as the Prince and the guards led him silently to the prince’s rooms. He memorised the way even though he got the feeling they were taking the long way around on purpose. When they reached them, the Prince dismissed the guards and they took up their posts by the door.

Upon entering the rooms, Dominic was surprised at how simple they were. He knew this man was new to the position of Prince, but still, he had expected to see a much more extravagant lifestyle. When they entered, the two young men who were kneeling by the fountain, stopped talking and looked at them. The paled skin boy with the raven hair looked at him in interest. He had a thin bandage wrapped around his head. So this bright-eyed harem boy was the Hellcat that had attacked him the night before. He really didn’t look like much of a handful.

The second, of course was Orlando, and upon seeing the two of them his face lit up.

The two boys bowed their heads, the submissive air Orlando excluded alarmed Dominic, what had happened to the defiant boy he knew so well? Had the Prince broken him? Dominic quietly seethed. If he had then there would be hell to pay, Dominic had no qualms in slitting the Prince’s throat if he had laid so much as a finger on Orlando.

Viggo chuckled slightly, though Dominic could certainly hear the strain in the noise. ”One would think you two were waiting for me.”

The two looked up, both smiling. Viggo put a firm hand on Dominic’s shoulder and guided him over to the two boys. ”I believe you already know Orlando, but this is Elijah, they will help you get settled-”

”My son.”

Dominic moved as quickly as the other two boys, he would recognise the voice of the Caliph anywhere. It was best to play it safe, lest the man decide he should loose his head after all. All three boys bowed silently, heads touching the floor as Viggo turned, facing his adopted father.

The Prince bowed slightly, ”father.” The Caliph was dismissing his guard as he entered the room. Dominic caught sight of bare feet beneath a cream robe, he must have come here straight from waking. This certainly didn’t bode well. ”Boys, would you leave us for the moment?”

Dominic stood, following the other two behind a beaded curtain. He didn’t have long to admire the room as Orlando had him in a bear hug.

”I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered against his ear.

”Me too,” Dominic returned the hug, feeling the taller boy tremble in his arms. He breathed in Orlando’s fresh sent, feeling home once more. Even if the brand made itself known quiet painfully.

When they pulled apart, Dominic noticed the little Hellcat standing by the door, close enough to try and hear the voices outside. The worry etched in the boy’s face surprised Dominic and he too crept forward to listen.

******

Viggo and Hugo studied each other for a moment. Viggo knew he had to tread carefully, he knew the wrong word could see Dominic dead within a moment. His adopted Father’s face was unreadable, Viggo unsure of what sort of a reception he was about to receive.

”You are looking well,” Hugo’s voice was neutral.

”I am, father.”

”One of your boys looked a little worse for wear. Would it have anything to do with last night?”

”Yes father,” Viggo hated this game, dancing around each other. ”Elijah saved my life.”

”And yet you have decided to keep the assassin that would have killed you last night.”

Here we go. ”Dominic has shown no malice to myself, nor our family, he was led to believe by the man who hired him that I had killed one of his friends. He was simply trying to honour Orlando’s death.”

”By killing the Crown Prince,” anger crept into Hugo’s voice. ”Your compassion can only go so far, Viggo. I have allowed you to keep the street boy, it will get him out of the guard’s way and you enjoy his company. But an assassin is unacceptable.”

”I would much rather have him under my eyes then out killing others!”

”That is easily remedied, he will die tonight, as you should have ordered to begin with.”

”Hugo, please,” Viggo panicked, ”Trust my judgment, the boy means no harm to this family, I swear it. And he is the only person who can confirm who truly wants me dead.”

Hugo paused. ”He saw the man who has been trying to kill my children?”

Viggo shook his head, ”but he knows the voice as well as his own, and that is the only link we have to this man-”

A sudden crash sounded from within his room, cutting off what ever else Viggo was going to say. Moving quickly both he and Hugo moved to his rooms.

Elijah was straddling Dominic’s hips, fists flying, actually catching Dominic a few times. The assassin seemed quiet surprised by the attack and Orlando was trying his hardest to pull Elijah from the other boy, regretting having taught Elijah how to fight. The two brawling boys had managed to knock over a copper vase.

Viggo groaned, these three would be the death of him.

******

Elijah had tried, really he had. But Dominic’s whispering voice had finally got to him. When Viggo had started talking, defending Dominic, the assassin had started. He was quiet, the words were barely breathed, but he was particularly malicious in all he said.

”I don’t need his help, I can get out of here on my own.”

”Who does he think he is, some collector of pretty boys?”

”He’s not collecting me, I won’t let him own me like some cheap toy.”

”I’m nobodies whore.”

The worst thing about it was not the actual words, but the tears that were collecting in Orlando’s eyes with every sentence the other boy spoke. Elijah could all but hear what was going through the other boy’s head; was that what Dominic thinking he was, just some painted toy boy?

”Especially not some stupid, European scum of a-”

Elijah snarled, seeing red, launching himself at the new boy. How *dare* he talk about his Prince like that. How *dare* he make Orlando cry. Elijah shoved him, pushing him to the ground, satisfied with the grunting sound Dominic made as he crashed into the vase. Falling with him, Elijah straddled his thighs quickly, his first punch landing smartly across Dominic’s cheek.

Orlando’s lessons had come in handy, dazed and surprised grey eyes stared up at him.

Elijah felt hands tugging at his shoulders, trying to pull him from Dominic’s body. Shrugging it off Elijah landed another two punches in swift concession. Stronger, surer hand lifted him. Elijah cried out in anger, legs kicking at the fallen boy as he thrashed in the hold.

”Don’t you *ever* say those things again,” Elijah shouted, angry tears filling his eyes as he lashed out again. ”Don’t make Orlando cry!”

”Must you always fight?”

Elijah looked up and into Viggo’s tired face. The look in his eyes was enough to drain the anger from Elijah’s body. Elijah quietened, wiping the tears from his eyes. ”I am sorry my Lord.” Elijah whispered, ”I have interrupted your discussion.”

”Are you all right, Dominic?” Prince Viggo looked to the fallen boy.

Dominic pushed himself up onto his elbow, groaning quietly. ”I think so.”

”Then would you mind telling me precisely what you said to make Elijah react in such a way?”

Dominic’s mouth clamed up, refusing to speak.

”He called you names,” Orlando answered softly. The look Dominic gave him was one of pure shock. ”And us toys.”

Viggo placed Elijah’s feet back on the ground, absentmindedly kissing the top of his head as he moved, kneeling down in front of Dominic. ”I did not have to save your life.” Dominic did not look at him. ”I could have left you to die, but I know you are an innocent in all this. You know I do only what politics demands of me.” He caught Dominic’s chin, forcing the boy to look at him, blue eyes boring into grey. ”But I will not have you insulting Elijah or Orlando. Their predicament is no different from yours. In some ways you are brother’s in arms, and I expect you to act like it.”

Dominic watched Viggo for a long moment, grey eyes searching. He nodded slowly, whatever he had been looking for, he had found.

”Very good.”

”I see these boys are in good hands.” Viggo looked up as the Caliph spoke. Elijah and Orlando bowed suddenly, realizing he had been watching the entire exchange. Hugo’s brown eyes sparkled with mirth. ”I can see that you are well protected. I trust in your decision my son, and will enjoy seeing the fruits of your labor.”

Hugo left them then, and Viggo got the distinct feeling that the Caliph was laughing at him.


	38. Chapter 38

XXXVIII  
by Beryll

Elijah sat on a large pillow in the sitting area of the central room, fuming silently. His knuckles hurt from hitting the assassin boy repeatedly and he was rubbing them absentmindedly. The feeling of his fists connecting with the other boys flesh had been quite satisfying and he vowed that he would practice his fighting skills further.

But now 'Dominic' was sitting nearby, allowing Orlando to take care of his bruises and of the burn mark that had swollen to an angry red.

Elijah gritted his teeth at the sight of Orlando fawning over the assassin.

Not ten minutes ago Dominic had made Orlando cry with his cruel words and obviously now all that was already forgotten and Orlando was his happy, chattering self again, telling Dominic how wonderful it was that they were reunited, how much fun they would have together, how great life in the palace was - completely ignoring Dominic's brooding.

This was boy would be nothing but trouble, Elijah was sure of that. And he would not keep that trouble to himself.

Silently Elijah cursed himself for speaking out in Dominic's favor, convincing the Prince to let the boy live. If he had kept his mouth shut the assassin would probably have lost his head by now. But he had been confused from the hit to his head and seeing Orlando's shocked face at the fact that his friend was going to die.

But he wouldn't have to worry about Orlando anymore it seemed. The former streetrat was delighted at the prospect of spending his time exploring the palace with his best friend. With Dominic.

The sting Elijah felt in his heart at that thought was much sharper than he would have anticipated. Somehow Orlando had managed to worm into Elijah's trust and affection without even consciously trying. But obviously his interest had been only fleeting. Of course he would keep to his older friend again now.

Furiously Elijah rubbed at his eyes. He would not cry. Not over something so trivial. He was quite capable of surviving on his own. He didn't need Orlando.

Soundlessly he rose from his pillow and slipped outside without either of the other two boys noticing.

He just made it outside before the first tear spilled over and ran down his cheek. It hurt so much. He did not want to be alone again.

Slowly he sank down the wall of the corridor, just outside the Prince's quarters, till he sat with his knees drawn up and his face firmly hidden against them.

He knew he should have run further away, to hide from curious eyes, but tears were running freely now, soundless sobs wracking his slender body.

His misery was so deep he didn't even notice the sound of steps closing in on him. Only when somebody knelt beside him and two strong arms pulled him into a protective hug did he realize that he was not alone anymore.

For a moment he panicked but then it was Sean's low, gentle voice who spoke to him.

"Little one, what happened? Are you hurt?"

Relief and a feeling of utter safety washed over Elijah then. He wrapped both arms around the neck of the older man, burying his face against Sean's broad chest, not trying to hold back anymore, crying with all the penned up grief and loneliness and fear that had gathered in his heart ever since his father had ordered the death of his beloved.

He didn't even notice he was picked up and carried away by this one man he for some reason knew he could trust completely never to hurt him.

He clung to Sean with all the despair of a lost child, crying till his tears had run dry and then still sobbing shakily.

When he at last calmed down to occasional sniffles, still hiding against Sean's chest, his chin was lifted by gentle fingers so he came to look into the worried green eyes of the warrior.

"What is it, little one?" Sean asked again, a hint of menace in his voice that was definitely not directed at Elijah but at whoever had hurt him.

Elijah drew in a deep breath and rubbed at his running nose with his sleeve, trying to calm himself. For a moment he tried to find some brave excuse, to tell Sean that he really was all right.

But the honest worry in the other man's eyes made even the thought seem ridiculous.

Before he could change his mind about it, he started to speak, telling Sean about his lover, how he had come to be the Prince's slave, about the fight this night, about his feelings for Orlando, how abandoned and lonely he felt - everything came out in one garbled string of words.

And Sean simply listened, still loosely holding Elijah in his arms.

Finally Elijah had exhausted his supply of words and came to a stop with a sorrowful "...and now... I just don't know...", his eyes again swimming with tears.

Sean gently brushed at his tears with his thumb, a gentle smile on his lips and a warmth in his eyes that set Elijah's heart aglow.

"Listen closely now, little one," he said firmly, "I promise, I will always be there to listen to you or comfort you. You won't be alone. I am your friend, whether you know it or not."

Elijah blinked at him with huge eyes, barely able to believe that this grown man would have the patience to put up with his whining. But Sean was here, wasn't he? And he had listened? And he hadn't laughed at Elijah's foolish fears either.

Impulsively Elijah again wrapped his arms around Sean's neck, hugging him fiercely, pressing his face against the warrior's neck.

"Thank you." he whispered, "thank you, thank you, thank you."

Sean rubbed his back gently. Elijah could hear the smile in his voice, could picture it perfectly as Sean spoke again.

"You are always welcome, little one. Never doubt it."

For a long moment Elijah clung to him, drawing strength from Sean's strong embrace, from the feeling of safety he felt, cocooned in Sean's arms.

Then he finally drew back, trying to put on a brave smile and managing reasonably well.

He was rewarded with a mirthful sparkle to Sean's eyes.

"That's better." Sean said approvingly.

Only now did Elijah notice where they were. Sean had brought him to a small secluded garden and they were sitting in the shade of an ancient orange tree, the sweet scents of the ripening fruits filling the air. 

It was a lovely place and Elijah suddenly was very conscious of the fact how close Sean was to him. The realization made heat race through his body and a warm, fuzzy feeling settle in his heart.

Again acting on impulse he leaned forward, closing his eyes, and places a shy kiss on Sean's lips.

It took him quite a bit of courage to open his eyes again, as he realized what he had just done. He was indefinitely relieved when he only found gentle surprise on the warrior's face. Sean seemed on the verge of saying something but then he looked at Elijah and seemed to swallow the words, a gentle smile returning to his lips and his eyes softening.

"Thank you." he said, with so much true feeling and warmth in his voice that Elijah felt his own heart glow.

He would have loved to lean in again, to kiss Sean some more but somehow he knew that this would have been too much too quickly.

"Now... about your friend Orlando," Sean said thoughtfully, deliberately breaking the somewhat tense moment, "I think, you should not give up on him so quickly. I have seen you two together. I don't think the bond you share can be broken so easily. He may be happy to see his friend again. But I'd wager he is already looking for you right now, deeply worried. You should return to the Prince's quarters before the little rascal does something stupid again."

Now that Elijah had calmed down he had to admit that Sean's words made sense. And that there was a dangerous likelihood of Orlando getting in trouble while looking for Elijah.

And although he would have loved to stay in this little hideout a while longer, cuddled close to Sean, restlessness gripped him at the thought of Orlando. He had to make sure the streetrat was all right.

"I should go looking for him, shouldn't I?" he said reluctantly.

Sean nodded with yet another smile. "Yes." He brushed some last drying tears from Elijah's face. "And don't forget, little one, if you need me, come and find me, I will always be there for you."

Elijah nodded, grateful for the reassurance.

"I will." he said softly.

Then he slipped out of Sean's embrace and they both got up.

"Is the Prince in his quarters?" Sean asked. "I wanted to talk to him when I found you. Explain some things..."

Elijah shook his head. "No, he went to talk to the Captain of the guard."

Sean sighed softly. "Seems I missed him, then." Noting Elijah's worried expression he shrugged, "No worry, though, Karl will have talked to him by now."

Then he looked Elijah over and brushed a leaf from his shoulder. "Will you find you way back? I really should go looking for both of them."

Elijah nodded, wondering with more than a little curiosity what was going on between his master, the captain of the guard and Sean.

As they parted ways at the entrance to the garden he promised himself that he would go to Sean again soon. To seek some more consolation. And to ask some curios questions.


	39. Chapter 39

XXXIX  
by Mel

”Where did Elijah go?”

The sudden movement surprised Dominic a little as Orlando stood. They had been left to their own devices for a while, the Prince obviously trusting them enough to keep out of trouble. The punches and burn still stung. The little Hell Cat was turning out to be more trouble then Dominic had bargained for. He had turned over everything he had said in his mind, and other then the insulting of the Prince that the other boy seemed to be infatuated with, Dominic could think of nothing he had said that could have made Orlando cry. The Prince *was* a creep, collecting boys like they were toys, but from what Dominic could gather, none of the boys had had any real choice in the matter.

Dominic watched as Orlando stuck his head in the Princes room, what looked to be a practice yard, and then the bathing room with obviously no luck in finding the little Hell Cat.

”Who cares?” Dominic muttered, missing the look Orlando threw him. ”Probably out hunting for the Prince.”

”I hope not,” Orlando said slowly, looking to the door. ”That could get him in a lot of trouble.”

”Trouble he probably deserves.” Dominic snorted. ”I don’t know why you’d bother about a silly little boy like that, I-”

”That’s enough Dom.” The quiet edge to Orlando’s words went unnoticed to the assassin.

”I mean, he’s not much is he? Punches like a girl too. Just a little painted doll for the prince to play with. He must be a good fuck-”

Orlando lifted Dominic so suddenly and violently that the other boy had no time to react. He was so surprised at the look of fury on his friends’ face that he couldn’t do anything but let himself be thrown into the nearest wall. Orlando’s taller body pressed against his, his face right in his. Lips pulled back, showing teeth. And Dominic had thought the little boy had been a Hell Cat, Orlando’s hackles were raised.

”Elijah stood up for you,” Orlando growled, ”He tried to help you and now you insult him. You insult the Prince and I. Do you really think I’d let myself become some doll, Dominic?”

Dominic shook his head mutely.

”This ends now. You would be dead if it weren’t for Elijah. Never forget you owe him your life.” Orlando let him go, stepping back. The fury in his face was quickly replaced with worry. ”I have to go and find him, who knows what trouble he’s getting himself into. You stay here, there a lot of people who are fond of the Prince and are looking for a good excuse to hurt you for the attempt on his life.”

Orlando paused at the entrance, looking to Dominic, his face serious. ”I am one of them.” And then he was gone, leaving Dominic to his thoughts alone.

*****

Orlando was frantic. He couldn’t find Elijah. It didn’t help that every time he rounded a corner there was someone in it and he had to miss some corridors completely. He already had an excuse planned if someone found him, but he didn’t want to risk having to be away from the Prince again. Learning with Ian had been an eye opener. There were things he learnt from the old slave trainer that he had never even thought of. The dancing had been the best part. But he had missed the Prince very much.

To think, he had been looking forward to showing him all the things he had learnt, and now this had to happen.

Seeing Dom again, and alive, had been wonderful. Except for the fact that he continued to insult the three of them at every turn without even realising it. None of them deserved that kind of abuse, especially when Prince Viggo had saved each of their lives. 

He’d try to keep Dom out of trouble, one wrong step and the Caliph would have him killed.

Now *that* man was an enigma. Orlando had barely got much more then a glance at him, but that strong voice, piercing eyes. Orlando shuddered involuntary. He would try to study the man that ruled this realm as much as his position allowed.

But first thing came first; finding Elijah.

Luck must have been on Orlando’s side, when he looked around the next corner there was Elijah. He almost called out, until he saw the look on his friends face. Elijah hadn’t seen him yet, his eyes were vacant, his normally lively face fallen. Orlando had never seen someone looked so lost. He looked like he’d just lost his best friend. Perhaps Orlando wasn’t too far from the truth in his thoughts.

”Elijah?” The soft whisper of his name drew the other boy’s attention to him. Orlando winced as he noticed the tear tracks down Elijah’s face. He wasn’t stupid, he knew he was responsible for them.

Elijah’s eyes cleared and he managed a small smile. ”Did you get bored of Dominic?”

”No, I was worried about you.” Orlando answered, ”missing you.”

”Really?” Elijah sounded sceptical, but there was some hope in his voice.

”I wouldn’t lie to you about something like that,” Orlando opened his arms, ”I’m sorry if I gave you reason to doubt me.”

Elijah snuggled into Orlando’s embrace, hands clinging to the other boy’s form. Though Orlando could feel tremors through Elijah’s form, but was happy that he wasn’t crying.

”I thought you didn’t need me anymore.” Elijah said against his skin. ”You’ve got Dominic now.”

”Dominic is my friend,” Orlando almost smiled as he felt Elijah tense in his arms, ”but so are you. No one can take your place in my heart, Elijah.” Elijah looked up at him, blue eyes bright. Orlando smiled, kissing his forehead gently before taking the young prince’s lips within his own. Elijah melted, whimpering slightly as they kissed, clutching at him.

They kissed for a while, Orlando finally pulling back, regretting having to leave those sweet lips.

”Well, partner, we’d better get back,” Orlando grinned, ”I’m sure Ian doesn’t want to see us again so soon.” Orlando took Elijah’s hand as they parted, threading their fingers together. ”I had to leave Dominic there on his own, only Allah knows what kind of mischief he’s gotten himself into. He’s never been one to follow the rules.”


	40. Chapter 40

XL  
By Beryll

"Captain, a word with you, if you please." With a wave of his hand Prince Viggo commanded the two guardsmen present in Karl's office to leave.

Any other day he might have waited till Captain Karl had concluded his business with them but not today. After everything that had happened in the few hours that had passed since sunrise he had used up his patience.

The two men hurried outside, closing the door behind them, sensing the foul mood of their Prince.

Karl looked more surprised than worried which in turn puzzled Viggo.

After all the Captain of the guard had sent him a notice that he was busy with his ill slave and now Viggo found him in his office with Sean nowhere in sight.

Warring emotions fought for an upper hand in Viggo. Anger at the fact that Karl hadn't been present when he could have used his advice on how to deal with Dominic, relief that he did not find Karl with Sean, witnessing their closeness, anger at the intense jealousy he felt, relief that Sean probably was better if Karl deemed it reasonable to leave him alone.

Some of his emotions must have been showing on his face as Karl now looked more worried.

"My Prince, what can I do for you?" he asked warily.

"Where is Sean?" Viggo asked more bluntly then he had intended.

"He went to look for you, my Lord, to talk to you." Karl answered.

Immediately Viggo felt foolish at his own jealousy and anger. When he had gone to Karl's quarters and had found neither Karl nor Sean he had just stopped thinking.

"Oh." he said, slowly sitting down opposite Karl's desk, trying to regain some decorum.

Karl smiled, understanding gentling his eyes. He got up and retrieved an earthen bottle and two cups from a shelf nearby, then poured both of them some of the strong liqueur.

"I apologize for not coming this morning," he said, "but I believed you would be fully capable of handling the situation on your own. How did the interrogation turn out?"

Viggo took a small sip of the spicy smelling liquid, enjoying the feeling of it spreading to his stomach with searing heat and calming his nerves.

"He didn't know anything truly usable. But he knows the voice of the man who gave him the assignment. So I decided to keep him alive. He also seems to be a friend of Orlando. Dominic is his name. Do you know him?"

Karl nodded. "Yes, I have seen them together. Not as softpawed a cat as our Orlando. This Dominic has claws to reckon with."

"So I learned." Viggo commented ruefully. "It was a close thing tonight."

"I have already started investigation how he got in. It's rather strange, actually, the guards at your door were wide awake and didn't see him so he must have slipped in through the windows of your sleeping chamber. I talked to the guards in the gardens who can observe that wall and they all say they didn't see a thing either. I would like to have a word with the boy, if you don't mind."

"He is in my quarters," Viggo said, "feel free to question him but don't hurt him please."

"In your quarters?!" Karl stared at him in shock. "Your highness?!"

Viggo sighed softly, taking another sip from his cup. "I have taken him in." He held up a hand to stop Karl's next words. "I know, foolish. But Orlando begged for his life and the boy swore he would behave."

Karl snorted. "Don't believe a word he says, Prince. He is a lying, thieving bitch. He may have a pretty face but he will bite the hand that feeds him."

"Be that as it may, for now he is under my protection, Captain." Viggo stated firmly and kept his eyes on Karl till the warrior bowed.

"As you wish, my Prince."

"Now, what is it with Sean? Why did you say he was ill?"

Karl looked down at his hands. "My Prince, I don't think it is for me to tell you. He wants to talk to you himself, to explain."

Anxious Viggo leaned forward. "Karl, please tell me. I worry about him more than I can say. He is the only thing of my former home I still have. He has followed me through all of Europe and across the sea to find me. Such loyalty is not found easily. Had he never followed me he would have been safe. Whatever happened to him, I carry half of the blame and I cannot bear the thought that he hated me for it."

Karl shook his head vehemently. "Never believe that, Prince, he loves you dearly. He has suffered greatly and has come terribly close to breaking. His pride is broken and he believes that his honor is as well."

Viggo felt the familiar red haze of rage rise in his heart and fought to keep it down. Images dances before his mind's eye of what might have been done to his best friend. He could almost hear the echo of Sean's screams. His voice was raw with emotion when he spoke again.

"I want you to find the man who did this to him, Karl. Find him. Anything Sean has suffered that bastard must suffer tenfold."

Karl nodded. "I will."

They finished their drinks in silence, both pondering the cruel fate of the man they by now both regarded as a friend.

Viggo was ready to get up and go look for Sean, when a polite knock sounded at the door and then the blond looked in. Viggo noted with worry the dark circles under his friend's eyes and the tired lines around his mouth but then his heart leaped in joy as he searched Sean's eyes and there found a sparkle of life that he had missed far to long.

"There you are," Sean said, closing the door behind himself, giving a short nod of greeting to Karl but keeping his attention on Viggo, "you are most elusive this morning, my lord."

"The same could be said about you." Viggo replied to the casual banter, relief showing in his voice. He smiled at Sean, hoping for one of Sean's rare smiles in return.

But the blond warrior's features stayed somber.

"I need to talk to the Prince alone," he said to Karl, "may I borrow your office for a moment?"

"Of course." Karl got up from behind his desk and walked to the door.

With another sting of jealousy Viggo noted how Karl's hand brushed Sean's shoulder reassuringly and the tiny nod of gratitude Sean in turn send Karl. They were so close now. As close as he and Sean had been. Fervently Viggo hoped that things could return to that easy companionship between the two of them.

Before Sean could say anything, Viggo did.

"Sean... I want to apologize. I have not spent as much time with you as I would have wished. I have not been the liege you would have deserved. You... I can guess what must have happened to you and I blame myself for it. Had I not left home you would never have come to this country, would never have been captured..."

Sean blinked at him in open consternation. "My lord...?" he blurted out, utterly surprised at this sudden admission.

Viggo could not face him, his mind again crowded with terrible visions of Sean's fate. He looked down as he continued: "I do not deserve such loyalty as you have offered. I ran away from home. Irresponsibly, uncaring. And I... I'm just sorry..." he ended, quite aware that there really was no way of apologizing.

He looked up startled when Sean knelt in front of him and took both his hands, his face gentle and so much reminding him of the countless times Sean had offered comfort, advise and strength in the past.

"Viggo, none of this is your fault," Sean addressed him intimately like he only rarely did, "you did not tell me to follow you. It was my choice and I have to live with the consequences. Do not blame yourself for the sorrows and pain of all the world. You can not shoulder everyone's pain."

Viggo had heard those exact words from Sean before. More than once. They brought a small smile to his face now.

"You'll never give up on being my guardian, will you?" he asked softly.

Now Sean did grace him with a smile. "Never." he said.

Then he drew a deep breath as if preparing for a fight. "I... what I have endured has robbed me of much," he said slowly, "I will need time to recover... when you... when you kissed me... yesterday... was that really just yesterday?... anyway... you startled me with that, brought back ugly memories... I understand you need me, Viggo, but I ask you, be patient with me..."

Viggo put a gentle finger to Sean's lips.

"I must again ask your forgiveness. I should not have rushed you into that. It will never happen again. Whatever pace you wish, set it. Just know that at the end of the road I am awaiting you eagerly."

For a long moment the two men looked at each other, reading the various emotions in the other's eyes.

Then Sean nodded slowly. "Thank you." he said, then chuckled quietly. "I seem to be saying that a lot lately..." he added more to himself then to Viggo and the prince couldn't help but wonder what he meant.

But he didn't ask. He would somehow manage to not press Sean for information or affection. And he would also manage to keep his jealousy in check. And somehow he would also manage to keep his kittens from scratching each other's eyes out and from killing him. And find the person behind all those assassination attempts. And of course single-handedly stop poverty, hunger and slavery in all the world...

With a low groan he let his head fall back.


	41. Chapter 41

XLI  
By Mel

“Would you mind coming and collecting Dominic?”

Karl looked at Viggo as he came out of his office. The prince looked much more settled, calmed considerably down from when he had entered. Karl looked at Viggo, noticing the change and was relieved. Even if he truly didn’t understand the reasons behind it. Viggo couldn’t be jealous could he? Especially when he wanted nothing more then for Sean and him to get along from the beginning.

He would have to ask the Prince another time, right now he was much more interested in questioning the new addition to the Prince’s harem.

“Sean?”

“Fell asleep on the cushions in the office, he seems... Very tired.”

Viggo looked very tired himself, but Karl didn’t mention it.

“I do not trust Dominic to walk anywhere without you or I. He is very clever and I don’t think it would be wise to leave him in the hands of people that couldn’t handle him.”

Karl had heard of the guard’s mistakes and many rigorous training programs were being put in place. Such carelessness would not be tolerated. “Of course, Viggo. Until I can rectify this problem, even I do not trust my own men with Dominic.”

Viggo smiled at him as they walked, the grin teasing. “Has Hugo talked to you yet?”

There was a soft groan from the other man. “Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. With the attempted assassination and the near escape it will not be long before the Caliph seeks me out. My men have become lax in their duties.”

“Perhaps a little, but these new training programs will be good for them. I would be very interested in offering my services if need be. Maybe the men would benefit from some European tactics.”

Karl thought on it for moment. “Yes, that would work out well, and perhaps Sean would be interested as well.”

The Captain had yet to see the other European man fight, but the way the Prince had often spoken of Sean’s skill greatly interested Karl. When Sean was feeling up to it, Karl was looking forward to pitting their skills against one another. He hoped the other man would be interested in the idea.

“Perhaps,” Viggo allowed, “you will have to ask him. Sean used to take a great deal of delight in teaching the younger men back home.”

Karl nodded, filing the piece of information away for a later date as they reached the Prince’s rooms.

Viggo paused at the door, a gesture that surprised Karl. Was the prince scared to enter his own rooms? Karl watched as he took a huge breath, entering his own courtyard in slow, measured steps.

Viggo was delighted to see all three boys in the courtyard, where he had left them. He hadn’t admitted it, even to himself, that they could have escaped. Between the three of them they were certainly resourceful, and if they had chosen to, Viggo would never have seen any of them again. He had worried on that almost constantly since he had come to the realisation of it. Not only that if they were ever found they would have been killed on sight, but also that he would return to an empty home and bed.

That thought saddened him beyond all else. It was amazing just how dependant he had become on the boys. Their forced separation was not something the Prince wanted to relive.

Dominic was the first Viggo noticed, the boy sitting moodily and by himself to the side. Getting a good look at Dom since the fight that morning, he took notice of the boy’s injuries. Elijah had done quiet a good job. Dom’s lip seemed split and they would have to take care that it did not become infected. The base of his jaw was swollen, which Viggo would have worried about if he hadn’t already checked that it wasn’t broken. The fresh bruise had blossomed on one eye. All in all the boy looked quite pathetic and Viggo hopped that he would refrain from provoking Elijah again.

Orlando and Elijah looked well. They had shed their shirts as the day heated up, bronze and ivory skin complementing each other. Both were talking, standing and Orlando seemed to be trying to demonstrate a dance step to Elijah.

Viggo hadn’t much time to think on what Ian had taught the boys, but Orlando had mentioned dancing at one stage, as had Sean. Both boys had been quite proud of the skill, though Viggo himself had yet to see it in action. Steeling himself, Viggo made his presence known.

“Dominic.”

The three boys looked to the door together, Dominic’s sullen expression changing to one of unease when he noticed Karl behind the Prince. Viggo was surprised to see a healthy dose of fear in the young man’s grey eyes. Karl was obviously someone to fear should you cross swords with him.

“Would you accompany the Captain, he has some questions for you.”

Dominic hesitated, causing Karl to growl, “I believe the Prince gave you an order, boy.”

Standing quickly Dominic followed Karl as he left, flicking his eyes pleadingly to Viggo. Viggo bit his tongue, forcing himself not to say anything that might undermine Karl’s position. Dominic had brought this upon himself, after all.

Sighing Viggo crossed the room, easing his tired body onto the cushions. Today just didn’t seem to want to end and he was tired just thinking about the days events. He closed his eyes, wanting nothing more then to sleep, even though he knew he couldn’t. There was still so much to do and he had to wait for Dominic to return. He didn’t relish the thought of that conversation, the idea of it already making his head ache.

Elijah and Orlando shared a look before returning their eyes to their seated Prince.

“You look tired, my Prince,” Orlando murmured, seating himself beside him. Gentle fingers undid the ties of the front of his shirt, pulling it free from his body.

“Very worn,” Elijah agreed, kneeling at his other side, bending over to ease his sandals off, skilled hands kneading at Viggo’s feet.

Viggo purred under the affectionate ministrations, wondering what he’d done to deserve such attentions. At their gentle hands he eased further back into the cushions, feeling the tension begin to disappear. The Caliph’s realm could fall into despair right now and Viggo wouldn’t care.

“Perhaps the Prince will allow us to dance for him?”

At this Viggo’s eyes opened a crack, looking up into two pairs of eyes. Both looked a little nervous, but otherwise excited. Elijah was biting at his bottom lip, which Viggo found quiet endearing.

“Does it require me moving?” Viggo teased.

Orlando swatted him playfully, but a huge smile spread across his face as he stood. “Of course not, sire. Lie back and let us do the work.”

Viggo sat back, eyes now fully open, intrigued by Orlando’s confident demeanour. Both boys stepped back, their shirts missing in the heat of the day, leaving them in only their loose pants. Viggo was painfully aware of the exotic contrast they both made, Elijah with his fair skin and alluring blue eyes and Orlando’s coffee skin and heavy curls.

Orlando lifted his hands to the sky, palms and feet mapping out a steady beat against the silence of the room. Elijah’s movements mimicked Orlando’s, just one step behind his friend, his beat the effective counterpart to Orlando’s heavy one.

Their hips moved in sync with the rhythm they created, rocking back and forth. They were slow movements, almost hesitant without the aid of any music. Still, they kept time with the claps of Orlando’s hands and the tapping of their feet.

Elijah moved suddenly, feet still tapping as he spun his body around Orlando’s as the beat picked up. Orlando’s own body followed Elijah’s turning on the spot, eyes never leaving the small boys, taking on a distinctly hungry shine. Heat pooled in Viggo as he watched the two dance around each other.

His hands rose as the spinning hastened. Elijah’s spine arched, curving his body, causing his fingers to graze Orlando each time the tips passed him. Their eyes never left each other’s. As Elijah passed Viggo again, Orlando caught him by the waist. Though the clapping stopped, the drum of their feet more then made up for loss of noise. Their body’s were pressed together, Orlando held one hand out to balance them as the now span together, in the time to the rising beat they had created.

Elijah’s body arched against Orlando’s, his feet slowly rising from the floor. Orlando supported them both, leaning back as Elijah snagged his own ankles. Viggo’s breath caught watching them, Elijah trusting Orlando completely as the other boy now span for them both. The sight brought a surge of pride in Viggo, in a few weeks his Kittens had come so far, a shaky truce blossoming fully, becoming trust, friendship and love. Viggo thanked whatever Gods had chosen to grace them with this moment. The dance was the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long time.

Letting his ankles go as the spinning slowed, Elijah let his feet fall back to the floor, finding the lost rhythm easily. They slowed right down, the steady thumping of their feet dying to nothingness. No part of their body wasn’t touching the other. Orlando held his arm gently around his waist, Elijah’s eyes staring up as they now stood remarkably still.

Both Elijah and Orlando had forgotten their dance had been for the Prince and Elijah jumped when Viggo’s hand brushed against his hip. They both looked to the Prince even as Viggo caught Orlando’s lips in a surprisingly tender kiss. Elijah could feel Orlando’s pulse speed up, the boy’s whimper echoing in the silence. The kiss seemed to last forever, Orlando’s hold on Elijah still firm even though he was beginning to squirm.

When the Prince lifted his head, Orlando actually gasped for breath, the sound starling Elijah. For a small moment fear seized Elijah. What would he do if the Prince decided to take what was rightfully his? What if he couldn’t be convinced to leave him be?

A thousand words died in his throat when Viggo looked at him. There was so much in those eyes, warring from lust and passion to pride and tenderness. Elijah knew in that moment Viggo would not take advantage of either of them, no matter how much his body might want to. Elijah knew, should he wish it, Viggo would not even touch him.

Elijah wanted nothing more then for Viggo to touch him right now.

Viggo’s lips found Elijah’s, the soft touch rocketing through the young man. Viggo kissed him much more gently then he had Orlando, letting Elijah set the pace. Orlando was rubbing his back gently and Elijah could only wonder what the other boy might be thinking. He clung desperately to the two of them, drowning in Viggo’s kiss.

When his tongue touched Elijah’s lips the boy stiffened. He couldn’t help it, this was all too fast, especially with a man he hated less then a few days before.

The Prince felt the change immediately, ending the kiss almost sadly. “Not before you are ready, my kitten.” He pressed his lips to Elijah’s forehead, “I would not force you in this.”

Orlando too looked a little sad. In truth, he had wanted to share this moment with Elijah from the beginning. But his promise to the young man hung heavily in his mind, so he tugged gently at Viggo’s arm, coercing the reluctant Prince to follow him to the bedroom.

Viggo looked at Elijah standing in the middle of the room before they disappeared into the shaded bedroom. “That is the second I have scared away in a matter of days.”

“Never fear, my Prince,” Orlando cooed, pushing him gently onto the divan, feet dangling over the edge. “Sean and Elijah love you and will come to you when they are ready.”

The Prince stared at Orlando who was smiling a little smugly, kneeling before him. “You do not know anyone else here that intimately, my Lord, being as busy as you are. And Karl and I are not scared of you at all.” Orlando’s grin widened. “You might growl loudly, but you are really quiet the Child’s Bear, my Prince.”

“I am just a toy, am I?” Viggo purred, lifting Orlando’s face by the chin. “Just a Teddy Bear?” He claimed the boy’s lips rather possessively. Orlando whimpered, surprised by the ferocity of the Prince’s kiss. He had teased Viggo mercilessly before, but never with a reaction like this. For the first time since this whole drama had begun Orlando felt truly owned by his Prince. It made Orlando kiss back harder, making Viggo fight for his dominance.

Viggo growled, a sound that shot straight through Orlando, and dragged him from the floor onto the divan, rolling the boy beneath his body. At no time did he break the kiss, nor cease the struggle to maintain his dominance over it.

Orlando drowned in the sensation, gave into it, feeling the Prince straddle his withering body. Letting Viggo take control. Orlando clung to the man above him, loosing his mind as Viggo’s hands, equally possessive as his lips, stroked at his heated flesh.

Breaking the kiss, Viggo stared down the panting boy, fighting not to show any of the arousal he felt. “If anyone here is a toy, Orlando,” Viggo purred, “it would be you.”

Orlando shivered at the rough tone in the Prince’s voice, resistance crumbling. “Yes, my Lord,” he husked, kissing the man’s jaw before nuzzling at his neck. “Will you play with me, my Prince?”

“Of course, kitten, but where should I begin?” He teased. Viggo smiled when Orlando’s breath hitched when his curious fingers brushed over the boy’ s nipples. “There are so many things I wish to play with,” Viggo leant down so he could hiss in Orlando’s ear, “so many things I wish to do with my new toy.”

Orlando could only whimper as Viggo tugged gently at his ear, sucking at the lobe. Heat pooled his body as he realised that the Prince was going to take his virginity. He pulled back so he could look into his Lord’s eyes, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

“Whatever you wish to do, my Prince, I give freely.”

Until the words were spoken, Viggo had been under the impression they were simply teasing one another. That they would share a few more heated kisses before Viggo would use the bathing room to relieve his problem and attempt to not fall asleep before Dominic returned. It hadn’t crossed his mind that Orlando would be willing to take this further. He stared at him, realising there was trust, stained with a healthy dose of nervousness, in Orlando’s eyes. There was also the unmistakeable evidence of the boy’s arousal resting against his thigh.

Viggo kissed him, trying to think around his aroused mind. He didn’t want to take advantage of Orlando, or hurt him in any way. Nor did he want to give the boy a reason to hate him later. A small sliver of fear imbedded itself in his mind, and though he would attempt to throw it off many times, Viggo knew he would never be rid of it. The fear of loosing these boys, all that would come to him, would live with him forever.

Orlando could almost taste the hesitation in the Prince’s kiss, but also the arousal. He smirked, squirming against his soon-to-be lover, enticing him. Viggo purred into the kiss, but one hand snuck between their bodies and pushing firmly against Orlando’s stomach, forcing the movements to still. He pouted into the kiss, breaking it.

“Do you not want me?”

Viggo looked at Orlando’s hurt eyes, sighing to himself. “It is not that kitten,” his fingers stroked the flesh idly. “I simply would not have you do something you would regret later. You mean too much to me to rush into this.”

Orlando looked at him with an odd expression. “That’s all?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t find me repulsive?”

Viggo stared at him, unable to believe that Orlando had asked that. But Orlando was biting his lip, forcing himself to look Viggo dead in the eye. He was serious. Viggo’s face softened, kissing him again gently. “Never.”

Orlando’s smile lit up the room. “Then there’s nothing wrong. What I give I am giving freely. No regrets.” Another kiss, leaving Viggo breathless. “I love you, silly Prince. I want this.”

Viggo smiled, trusting Orlando’s judgment. “It will be my pleasure, Kitten.” When they kissed this time, it was of desire rekindling, their earlier seriousness washing away. Orlando’s body arched, fingers clawing at Viggo’s back, dragging the firm flesh down upon him. “You are all mine today, Orlando.”

Orlando purred against any bit of Viggo’s flesh that he could find. The Prince set him on fire, fingers now tugging gently at the ties of his pants. His never left Orlando’s body, they were always touching his flesh in one way or another. It made Orlando feel pampered, protected. Loved.

Viggo took a care not to rush things. He knew Orlando was relatively new to this, and he did not wish to scare the boy from him. His kitten, however, seemed to burn in his blood, making him want to forgo all preparations. To sink into the delightful body below him. He would never do that, but the thought, the primal need was still there. Viggo rid Orlando of the rest of his clothing, and his own, as quickly as he could.

Everything heightened when Orlando could feel their bare skin rub against skin. He gasped, a desperate mew finding its way passed his lips. Viggo kissed him again, the touch loving, if a little hungry, pressing his full weight against Orlando, grinding their cocks together.

“Oh Allah,” Orlando hissed, “that feels... wonderful.”

Viggo’s smile was warm, rubbing against him again. “I thought you would like that.” He nuzzled lovingly against the young mans neck. “Can I... keep going?”

“I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.”

Viggo chuckled. He sucked lightly at the skin of Orlando’s neck, feeling the boy wither beneath him. When he was satisfied with the large purple mark his lips were going to leave, Viggo continued down his bronzed kitten. He took the time to lick at the hardening nubs on Orlando’s chest.

Orlando was in going out of his mind. Pleasure spiked his body in ways he hadn’t thought possible. Who could have known his neck would bee that sensitive? Or his nipples? Viggo seemed abnormally smug as he moved onto the second nipple, bathing it in the same amount of attention.

Viggo could feel the young man’s need. It rolled off him, saturating the Prince’s tongue as he continued to lick and kiss his way down the offering before him. With every movement, every sound, Orlando made, Viggo’s own arousal sparked higher. He loved being able to bring him to this level. This need, want and desperation. Viggo would gladly spend his whole life in this bed, bring these sounds, these needs, from his Orlando. He would make sure Orlando never forgot this.

His lips travelled further, his tongue licking at Orlando’s navel. The reaction that caused was most delightful, the boy crying out loudly.

Oh My. Orlando’s head thrashed. He certainly hoped no one thought he was dying. He was making enough noise to wake the dead. The thought brought a brighter stain to his cheeks and Orlando bit into his lip, silencing himself.

Viggo looked up, eyes hooded, lips swollen. “I want to hear you, Kitten,” he cooed, lips kissing his skin. “Make as much noise as you wish. I want to hear what I’m doing to you.” Orlando shook his head, wide eyed. Viggo licked up the side of his cock, forcing a gasp. “That’s it, let me know you’re enjoy this. Never try to stop the passion you’re feeling.”

He keened when Viggo took the head of his arousal between his lips. The Prince chuckled, the sound making Orlando shudder.

He took Orlando carefully between his lips, ensuring the boy felt every single second of the torture. One hand went to a table beside the bed, reaching for a vial of oil. After the last few times he and Karl had been caught without it, Viggo didn’t want to take that chance again, placing one within easy reach should he and the Captain had become impassioned. He quietly popped the cap, coating three of his fingers as he sucked harder.

Orlando’s eyes shot open when slick fingers brushed against his entrance. Automatically he tensed, unsure of what to think, or feel. Viggo choose then to swallow his arousal, sucking lightly, causing Orlando’s body to arch and howl. He barely noticed the press of one of Viggo’s fingers, the digit meeting little resistance as the young man relaxed. Orlando couldn’t stop the low groan, but he shivered in response to the answering purr from Viggo.

The second and third fingers met resistance, Orlando’s tight body squeezing around them. But Viggo was patient and he continued to lick and suck at the boy’s arousal, keeping him on the edge of his own peak. Soon he was pumping them in and out of Orlando’s body, delighting in the noises the boy made whenever they brushed his sweet spot.

“Please Viggo,” Orlando whimpered. “I cant take much more of this.” Heavy eyes pleaded with his own. “Please.”

Viggo slowly withdrew his fingers, letting his Kitten’s wet arousal slip from his lips. He rose up over the young man’s body, enjoying the startled yelp when he kissed him. Orlando withered beneath him, clinging once more to his skin.

“Are you sure?” Viggo asked against his lips, forcing his body to still.

Delighted chocolate eyes stared up at him. “More then I have ever been.” He kissed him again, touch lingering. “I wouldn’t have anyone else as my first.”

Viggo groaned, swooping down, claiming the boy’s lips. He moved slowly, pressing his own arousal forward as gently as he could. His Kitten was so tight and it took all of his control not to slam forward. Orlando deserved much better then that.

Orlando gasped into Viggo’s mouth. He couldn’t stop the sound no more then he could deny the burning sensation that rose beneath him. Orlando had known this would hurt, but even that had not prepared him for the searing sensation. He bit his lip, fighting to relax his body, to make things easier.

Viggo paused, feeling Orlando’s soft whimper of pain. “We can stop,” he panted, rising on his elbows so he could stroke Orlando’s face. “This doesn’t have to go any further.”

Orlando bit his lip, not trusting his voice, and shook his head. In answer he pushed down, gasping as he forced Viggo the rest of the way in. “Just... just give me a moment.”

Viggo held his breath as he waited, stilling his movements. He watched Orlando’s face as the pain began to fade away, replaced with wonder. He waited for the discomfort to recede before he slowly pulled out and pushed gently back in, his arousal brushing Orlando’s sweet spot as he did.

Orlando’s eyes widened, pleasure making his face flush. “Oh Allah!”

Smiling Viggo kissed him again as he began to rock in and out of the now welcoming body. Orlando seemed at a loss of what to do as pleasure seeped into his body. He managed to hold onto Viggo’s forearms, kissing him back desperately. He had never felt anything as wonderful as this.

Viggo built their rhythm steadily, using Orlando’s mews and sighs as a guide. Reaching carefully between their bodies he grasped Orlando’s arousal. His Kitten wailed, chocking on the sound as his body arched.

“Viggo, I’m going to...”

“It’s all right,” Viggo gasped, sucking at his neck, “I’m right here. Come for me.”

Orlando did, crying out his name, body tightening around him. He continued to rock into the boy, feeling him shuddered, watching the ecstasy course across his face. Viggo could only follow him, kissing him suddenly as his body racked with the fierceness of his reaction.

He collapsed, being careful to roll off Orlando’s body, sinking into the mattress. Orlando rolled with him, slim body fitting easily into his own. Viggo smiled sleepily, the day's long events getting to him and he kissed the top of Orlando’s head.

It wasn’t long before the Prince faded into sleep, unable to help it as his exhaustion got the better of him.

Orlando only moved when he was sure Viggo was asleep.

He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone yet, but the bags that were collecting beneath his Lord’s eyes were a source of worry. One Orlando hoped that he could relieve, if just a little. He sat up, shifting uncomfortably at the empty feeling, covering Viggo up as he stood. He smiled fondly as Viggo rolled into the warm spot he had left, seeking him even in his sleep. The nap would do him good, and Orlando would ensure none would wake him.

Moving quietly, Orlando left the room to make use of the Prince’s private baths and await Dominic, and Elijah’s it seemed, return.


	42. Chapter 42

XLII  
by Beryll

Sean could hardly believe that he had been living in Karl's quarters for - was it truly several weeks already? - without ever really paying any attention to them. Standing in front of a shelf, studying the various objects it held, he tried to guess what significance they held to Karl, why he had kept them.

Some where easy: a set of daggers, encrusted with jewels - clearly gifts by some important person, too valuable to discard but useless nonetheless. The hilt of a sword, well worn with the blade broken off - a weapon used for many years, now retired but never forgotten.

Other Sean could not place like a small engraved box holding some ends of string and some small stones. Maybe token from a childhood long past.

This was Karl's life spread before him in a way, open for him to see and yet he had never cared to look. He had been too caught up in the darkness threatening to devour him to see anything but himself, endlessly reviewing all the pain and humiliation he had suffered, completely ignoring that they had already become a thing of the past. That he had - against all odds - found his lord again and found a new home as well.

With a small sigh he closed his eyes, fighting down those images rising before his mind's eye.

A warrior, Karl had called him. That he would be proud to fight by his side.

But Sean had not been fighting lately. He had wallowed in misery and defeat. In the rare clear moment he was now enjoying he could see that and he vowed silently, that he was a warrior still.

Do not give up, do not let them win, Karl had said in despair. And Sean intended to heed that command.

Slowly he ran his fingers over the smooth surface of a large animal skull on the top shelf. Huge canines gave it a fierce grin and Sean wondered, if Karl had bested this beast. It probably was a story well worth telling and with a small smile Sean realized that he felt curiosity stir in his heart. So he was not dead, after all. Not yet.

Still he flinched slightly when there was a soft knock on the door.

Karl was not back yet. He had been gone from his office when Sean had woken up from the short nap he had drifted into after his talk with Viggo, the exhausting night of nightmares taking its toll. Assuming that he would meet the Captain back at his quarters Sean had returned there. But so far Karl had not shown up. And Sean realized with slight amusement that he actually missed the other warrior.

"Come in." he called, knowing that he should at least take a message for Karl from whoever was calling on the Captain.

But it was no guard opening the door, but a boy Sean had not expected to see again so soon. At least this time Elijah wasn't drowning in his own tears, Sean noticed as the boy opened the door a crack just wide enough for his head to fit through. His eyes scanned the room cautiously and Sean realized, that he must be looking for Karl.

"He's not here, little one." He said gently. "Are you to deliver a message from the prince?"

Sean was again surprised, when Elijah's pretty blue eyes settled on him and he saw that they were not full of tears but showed an almost wild mixture of various feelings, the most obvious ones fear and a deep insecurity.

Elijah slipped into the room fully, closing the door behind him. He was only wearing pants, Sean noticed, and his body was slightly flushed as if he had run. For a moment he looked like he was about to rush over into Sean's arms but then he stopped himself, remaining by the door, staring down at his own naked feet as he spoke.

"No," he said so quietly Sean immediately stepped closer to hear him better as well as to offer comfort to the distraught boy.

When Elijah didn't say any more, Sean closed the distance between them. "What is it, little one?" he asked, worry now stirring in his heart. "Has someone hurt you?" He wished to take the boy in his arms but wasn't sure if he wouldn't startle him away with such an act.

"No, I... it's... I..." Elijah looked up at him shyly through his lashes. "You... you said I could come to you..." he concluded unhappily, obviously not at all sure if he was welcome.

Sean smiled at him reassuringly. "Of course you can."

Now knowing that the boy had indeed come seeking comfort, he gently pulled him into his arms. For a tiny second Elijah stiffened but then he melted against Sean, seeking closeness like a newborn kitten seeking warmth in her mother's fur.

"Ssh... it's all right." Sean whispered softly, stroking the boys raven curls gently. 

"I... I failed the prince..." Elijah suddenly whispered, muffled against Sean's chest. 

Before Sean could begin getting worried about what the boy might have done, he already continued with his tale, still hiding his face against Sean.

"We... were dancing... for him. Me and Orlando... like we practiced..." he explained haltingly, "...and then... we were through... and he... kissed Orlando... and then me... and I... I just couldn't... I was so scared... he's so... so... scary... Orlando... he really loves him... they kissed more... and he said... he wouldn't force me... but he looked so... I don't know... disappointed... and now..."

Clutching at Sean's shirt, Elijah finally looked up, open fear written in his face. "Will he now send me away?" he asked, his eyes pleading for a reassuring answer.

Thankfully that was an answer easily given. "Of course he won't send you away, silly." Sean chided softly, ruffling Elijah's hair. "You are dear to his heart, you know?"

He thought back to the way he had shied away from Viggo only yesterday himself. He knew his prince too well and therefore could tell that Viggo would be blaming himself.

"Did Orlando stay with him?" he asked and was relieved when Elijah nodded. At least Viggo wasn't all alone.

"He won't hurt Orlando, will he?" Elijah asked worriedly and Sean smiled. "No, little one, I'd wager right about now Orlando is very happy to have the prince all to himself and would be quite unwilling to share with you."

At that Elijah blushed violently and quickly lowered his gaze.

At first Sean thought this was because of his comment about Orlando, but when Elijah kept nervously shifting from one foot to the other he prodded the boy gently. "What is it, little one?"

Elijah's blush even intensified. "I..." he stuttered and then drew a deep breath, visibly fighting to calm himself. When he looked up at last, Sean was startled at the deep longing and fragile hope he saw shining in the boys blue eyes. "I was just thinking... that I was quite happy to have you to myself too." He said, trying to sound dignified and mature.

His sweet, honest declaration touched Sean deeply.

Only this morning he had told Karl that nobody would ever want him - could ever want him. That he was soiled and broken beyond redemption.

He had believed Karl, when the other warrior had told him that he was still wanted and he had believed his prince when he said he would wait for him however long it took.

But neither man had managed to reach so far into Sean's troubled soul as Elijah did with the innocent, pure love that shone in his eyes. So blue - like the summer sky in the north. Like a homecoming.

Slut. Whore. Wretched, used creature.

None of those words held any meaning suddenly, as Sean smiled down at Elijah. They could not touch him while he basked in the warm glow of Elijah's blooming smile.

Leaning down and gently meeting Elijah's mouth with his own seemed the most natural thing. And he felt like drowning in the boys sweetness, when their lips parted, when their kiss intensified without ever growing fierce or demanding. Like lovers they kissed, lovers just discovering the wonder of each other.

Sean could not have said how long they stood entwined like that, drinking from each others breath, arms encircling the other, not grabbing and confining but lending safety like a protective wall against the world outside.

They separated with a soft sigh. 

Looking down at Elijah Sean realized what wonderful a gift he had just been granted. It was life he held in his arms. To the core of his being he was warrior, his chosen task had ever been protection of his lord. But his lord had long ago stopped truly needing his protection. But this boy, this beautiful trusting boy who had graced him with his love - he was a reason to live for all in itself.

"Will you teach me how?" Elijah asked softly, all fear now gone from his voice. "You I trust never to hurt me." And unspoken his eyes added 'you I love'. "Will you teach me how to serve our prince?"

Sean expected to feel cold fear race along his spine at the mere thought. But instead his body reacted with warmth spreading from his heart and with a distinct tingle of arousal he had not expected ever to feel again.

But despite the longing he could see in Elijah's eyes he gently asked: "Do you really want this, little one? The prince will neither force nor rush you."

A slight blush again crept to Elijah's cheeks. "I know." he answered shyly. "But... I want you."

Sean knew the boy's words to be utterly honest but still he felt quiet amazement at the fact how much he was loved and wanted. Had been loved and wanted ever since he had come to the palace without being able to see it.

"I will be honored, little one." He said, caressing Elijah's cheek with a thumb and again feeling that tingle of heat run through him as the boy leaned into the touch, his eyes partially drifting closed.

Again they kissed, this time with more passion but still as much tenderness. And Sean smiled into their kiss as he felt Elijah's slender hands creep under his shirt, seeking the warmth of is skin. The boy might be very scared of the prince but he obviously was not entirely inexperienced and not scared of Sean at all.

Curiously Elijah's fingers explored the expanse of Sean's back, lingering on the various scars they found. Marks of battles fought and the newer marks of humiliation. Sean shivered as he recalled the whip ripping his skin where now cool fingertips lingered.

It was not Elijah who would have to fight against fear in their encounter, he realized.

In silent agreement they steered each other over to the bed. Karl's bed, Sean thought, wondering what the Captain would think of what was happening in his quarters. Which brought to Sean's attention another small detail.

He separated from Elijah with a small peck to his nose and then quickly went over and locked the door. Probably Karl wouldn't be happy to find himself locked out of his own rooms but that was still preferable to having him walk in at the most inappropriate moment.

Turning back to Elijah he was a bit startled to find that the boy had shed his pants and was now sitting on the bed completely naked, his slim body arranged in the most enticing and yet concealing way. Ian truly had taught the boys well. Sean couldn't help but wonder what else the old fox had taught them.

But there also was that hint of innocent insecurity in Elijah's eyes that made his posture all the more arousing.

Sean pulled off his shirt on the way back to the bed and then pulled Elijah back into his arms, both of them sinking onto the bed. There were a thousand flippant remarks that came to Sean's mind to ease the tension he felt building inside of him, but he voiced none of them, not wanting to break the incredible mood of trust and closeness they shared.

Instead he again kissed Elijah, first his mouth, then working his way down the milky white throat, marveling at the smoothness of the boy's skin, unmarred by age or battle or cruelty.

Elijah responded with a soft gasp, his fingers fluttering over Sean's skin like excited butterflies. The boy's body arched into Sean's seeking as much contact as possible in youthful passion. 

Sean shuddered as those questing fingers found their way into his pants, touching him. 

Images flashed before his mind's eye, the darkness of his memories threatening to overwhelm. Being used, his body not his anymore, his pride shattering with his resolve as rough hands grabbed and squeezed and rubbed him, robbing him of his last shreds of control.

Forcefully Sean shoved those memories back down to the blackest pits of his mind, instead concentrating on the slender fingers curiously caressing him now, concentrating on the texture of those soft fingertips, on their shyness, their complete lack of demand.

A low groan escaped him, as his body responded to this entirely different coaxing.

And he delighted in the small sound of wonder from Elijah, as his cock started to fill in the boy's hand.

Looking down at him, Sean felt his heart beat faster as he surveyed the exceptional beauty spread before him. Elijah smiled back, shyness slowly waning and being replaced by a cocky pride at being able to arouse Sean.

Sean's gaze wandered down Elijah's body and he couldn't suppress a smile as he realized just how excited the boy was already, his slender cock hard and straining. Sean ran a thumb along the boy's member and Elijah's eyes glazed over with passion. He whimpered softly, his fingers tightening on Sean's cock in response, making the warrior groan.

For a little while Sean kept teasing Elijah till the boy was squirming and writhing beneath him, every little gasp and moan wordlessly begging for more, for something to satisfy the need the boy felt mount inside.

Still Sean took care not to rush. 

On the low table beside the bed he found the salve the Captain had used to sooth his wounds. It now came in handy as Sean spread some between his fingers, then reached down to Elijah's virgin entrance.

A small frown appeared on Elijah's brow and he bit his lower lip, gazing at Sean, seeking reassurance, as Sean circled his opening with slick fingers, teasing him.

Drawing in a deep breath through his nose, Elijah spread his legs wider, nudging Sean on with a small nod.

Careful not to hurt the boy, Sean slowly pushed one finger inside, watching how Elijah visibly concentrated on relaxing. He watched for any signs of pain, but Elijah even managed a small smile. He gradually relaxed more and more as Sean continued preparing him, his body growing accustomed to this intimate invasion.

When Elijah easily accepted three fingers pushing into him deeply and was actually starting to hungrily move against Sean, the warrior leaned down and kissed the boy again.

"Ready?" he asked softly, wanting to make sure one last time that Elijah truly wanted this as much as he did by now.

Elijah laughed shakily, shuddering on Sean's fingers. "As ready as I will be." He answered, his bright blue eyes filled with trust and lust alike.

Not giving the boy a chance to doubt his decision, Sean withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his cock, nudging Elijah's opening. Whatever dark memories had plagued him when Elijah had first touched him - they were now forgotten as his body remembered better times. Slowly, inch by inch, he entered, his gaze remaining locked with Elijah's, savoring the numerous expressions he saw reflected in them.

Finally he was fully sheathed in the boy's tight heat and a shudder rippled through him as his body remembered what pleasure was.

Elijah in turn gasped, his eyes wide open and filled with disbelieving bliss.

"This is... good." He whispered, wrapping his legs around Sean's hips, opening himself even more.

Sean agreed wholeheartedly. He rocked into the welcoming heat of the boy's body in shallow thrusts and Elijah moved with him, rolling with the rhythm Sean was setting.

There was no urgency in their love making. It was slow and sensual and everything they both wanted and needed - closeness, tenderness and the knowledge of completely safety.

They moved in perfect unison, driving each closer and closer to completion, kissing and caressing the whole time in silence.

And when they finally both were so close to the edge they could feel their bodies tense up and draw even closer together, they kissed again, staying locked together, sharing their breath and their orgasm most intimately. Not being crushed by the intensity but instead floating on it.


	43. Chapter 43

XLIII  
By Mel

Dominic knew he had never been in deeper trouble then he was right now. The Prince had not been able to look him in the eyes when he had left the room, not because of shame, Dominic had the feeling if he had, Karl would not be leading him along now.

The Captain held his arm in a deadly grip. There would be bruising in an hour, but he had the good sense not to complain. Why give Karl another excuse to flay him? Karl was now pretty much dragging him further into the palace. Dom attempted to memorise where they were going, but with the Captain making so many turns that Dom was sure he was taking him a very long way around. Dom gave up rather quickly.

Instead he took the time to study the tall man. Dom had crossed knives with the Captain of the Caliph’s guard a number of times. His back held many scars to prove it. Dom had upset the carriage of a Turkish Princess once and been quiet sloppy about getting caught. Since then Dom had been on the Captain’s list and his elite guards had made it difficult to get any sort of work done. Often Dom found himself leaving for other kingdoms in order to finish some business.

Though the Captain had looked after Orlando since he had been a boy, Dom, who was both a foreigner and seen as a bad influence on the other urchins, was offered no such special treatment. In fact, he was sure the Captain went out of his way to make Dom’s life difficult, even when he wasn’t misbehaving. Orlando had reminded him often that rich people had often ended up dead when he was around, and as the Caliph was remarkably wealthy, Karl had every right to watch him closely.

Until now, Dom had never made any attempt on the Caliph, his family or those considered close to him. Karl had never had a real reason to dislike him. However, Dom got the feeling that the man now had every reason not to trust him and was going to enjoy taking full advantage of that fact.

Not that it mattered, he didn’t intend to be here that much longer. He would soon be leaving, with Orlando in tow. As much fun as being owned by someone was, Dom was looking forward to being his own person again, as he was sure Orlando was as well.

The sudden stop the Captain mad drew Dom sharply from his thoughts. The Captain threw open a door guarded by two men. They were hardened warriors and Dom could only wonder if they were always here, or if the Captain had prearranged this. Neither of those options were even remotely pleasing and Dom kept his feet as the Captain of the guard threw him through the open door.

When Dom turned, slowly to avoid prompting the Captain into action, the door was already closed. The room was bare, save for high windows that spilled light into the room, and one low table with two wooden chairs. The terracotta stonewalls heated the room slightly, causing the assassin to sweat.

The Captain promptly shed his shirt, the material dropped at the door. His knuckles crack ominously as his hands balled into fists and he stalked into the room, his braids clinging to the flesh of his upper body. He walked straight passed Dom, just close enough to invade the boy’s personal space, but not enough to touch, and sat at one of the chairs. Tawny eyes glared at him.

Dom was smirking. It couldn’t be helped. The Prince had unwittingly put Dom in an interesting position. The Captain could not truly harm him, a little roughing up perhaps, but Viggo would have Captain’s hide if anything permanent was done. Like wise, Dom had no chance of escaping, it would give the Captain cause to kill him. They were at the point where anything physical could not be attempted. Which left them with the intricate dance of their minds.

Dominic was an Assassin, a thief, and a general vagabond. But his mind was sharp, and he’d wager he knew more about politics and the ways of the court then the painted slave boy the prince kept. Dom had needed to pose as an Earl, a Duke, a scullion boy or a merchant from one moment to the next. He had need to talk his way out of many scrapes, going from simple speech to the subtle spoken fencing of a noble in a single moment. The Captain was a man of action, and as such Dominic did not believe he could best him here. However, it wouldn’t do to let that loose so early in their game.

Dom sat silently across from the man, allowing himself to appear relaxed. The Captain watched him, but nothing about his cold demeanour changed, intriguing Dominic. It also made him grateful, this part of the game was no fun if the players were no good at it. It had been some time since he had come across a challenge such as this.

“I trust the Prince has treated you well?”

Dom hid his glee. Thus it began. He shrugged. “As well as can be expected, Captain.”

“And the boys?”

“Some general squabbles, but such things are normal among young men.”

“So I see,” the Captain looked pointedly at the bruising, as if only just noticing it. “Nothing too serious, I hope, it would be a pity if you met with an accident from your bed mates.”

Dom was not lead into this false sense of security the Captain was creating. The man was good at this, but Dom was much better. “That is true, but I have no doubts we will work through it.”

“That’s good,” the Captain leant forward, leaning his chin on his interlaced fingers. “What brought you to Aqaba? It is the wrong time of year for your sort of interests?”

The game moved a little quickly, but Dom couldn’t bring himself to begrudge the Captain for it. Ideally the pleasantries should have taken much longer, but they were pressed for time, so Dom allowed the subtle change of subject with another shrug. “This and that, visit some friends, try my hand at some work.”

“It appears you found the wrong sort of work,” the Captain drawled.

“So it seems, but it is nothing I can not handle.” He pushed the hair out of his eyes in a subtle gesture. The Captain’s eyes narrowed slightly. The urge to grin was squashed from years of practice. Dom wondered vaguely if he could goad the Captain into some sort of irrational behaviour, but pushed it aside. It wasn’t worth making them more enemies then they already were, and Orlando was quite fond of him.

“It appears you have everything in hand then,” he sat back. “And how do you plan to leave?”

Not entirely subtle, but the Captain was sure to be rusty. “If I wished it, which I would never, the same way I came.”

“And how would that be?”

“Through the window.”

The outright lie made the Captain’s face darken before he composed himself. “Now that was a lie, Dominic.”

“Was it?”

“It was,” came the dry response. “I see this is getting us nowhere.” The look in his eyes made Dom pause, realising things were about to change, but to what end, he could not see. “You may find this fun, but it’s rather tiresome for me.”

“My Lord?” He stressed the ‘lord’ as insulting as possible. Perhaps now would be a good time to attempt to goad him into some sort of rash action.

“I can not kill you, and you would not disappoint me enough to do something that would give me a good excuse to do so. In more ways then one, we are at an in pass. There is one piece of information that you hold over my head.” The look the Captain gave him was calculating. “The way you got so effortlessly into the Prince’s rooms. It’s one detail I can not let you leave here without knowing.”

“I scaled the wall and crept in the window, is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes, especially considering at no point in the night are any of the walls not watched.”

“Perhaps your men are sloppy?”

“No man saw you, why don’t you save me the hassle and tell me the truth?”

“I am,” the key was to never back down from the story, the second Dom started to make ‘or what?’ threats, the Captain would take delight in talking it out of him. Still, the next look he gave Dom was not cold. It was scorching.

The Captain took advantage of the fact he had not been ready for this sort of attack.

“Come now, it’s not so hard to tell me what I want to know. It’s not like you’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.” Purposely he stretched, hands rising into the air, body bearing out before Dom’s eyes. The coiled grace was not a surprise to Dom, he had fought the Captain before, the sexual connotations behind it were so well-timed Dom silently applauded the man. He wondered if the Captain had been a harem boy before he worked for the Caliph. Dom allowed his eyes to roam freely, seeing the man thought it was prudent to show off.

The Captain had the body of a hardened warrior and Dom took his time in appreciating it. Dom knew the work that had to go into a body like his. His skin was stained, the sun having taken its toll against it, scars, fine and heavy, decorated them. The Captain had fought, often it seemed, and wore the markings with the same pride that any warrior did. The thickest of which, now so healed it could only be noticed if you truly looked, was just above where his heart was. Dom did not think to heavily upon the implication of such a deep scar, but wondered if there was one in the same place at his back.

He wore his hair in tiny, well-kept braids, but it did not detract from the whole image. It only amplified it. When the Captain moved his head, the black hair rippled, the beads at the end knocked together, making the tiniest of noises. Dom had never noticed it be for, but the faint chime of the beads would normally be enough to give a man away in a moment. Dom would be listening for it next time. Now the beads simply let their melody sing as the Captain flicked them away from his body. He almost appeared to be preening.

He smiled with his eyes, the look so sinfully confident that Dom appreciated the gesture. But sleeping with the Captain of the guard would be like sleeping with a basket of vipers. It was a mistake Dom wasn’t ready to make.

“I already told you how I got in.”

“But you lied to me,” he explained patiently, “and a lie just won't do. I want the truth, and I know you’ll want to give it to me.”

A spike of pleasure flashed through Dominic’s body. He certainly didn’t like the way this conversation was heading, especially if the current look the Captain was giving him was anything to go by. However, none of this showed in his face and he yawned. “You are right, this is getting rather tiresome and as I have already told you everything I know, perhaps I should be getting back to my Lord.”

“Oh no, Dominic, you are not going anywhere till you tell me what I want to know,” another feral grin and Dominic fought not to let the arousal he was feeling show. He even managed not to shift in his seat, which was quiet a feat. “And I know how to get what I want.”

Dominic believed it too, the Captain of the Caliph’s guard certainly looked like one who was use to winning, even if it meant pulling dirty tricks. Like this was. What was it with everyone trying to out smart him lately? It certainly wasn’t fair. His luck seemed to have died the moment he heard the name ‘Prince Viggo’. It was easier to focus when he thought of the man who had stolen Orlando from him. “If I remember rightly, I have nothing you would possibly want.”

“I think you do,” his voice purred, “a few things actually, but most of those can wait for a later date.” One foot kicked out, pushing the table that was the only thing between them out of the way. It made Dominic feel suddenly bare, something that he didn’t feel completely bad about. It was a lot harder to hide his rising arousal with the Captain staring at him that way. The Captain was being very candid about all this. It certainly was off putting, knowing he was being toyed with.

Was this how Elijah felt?

“I think it’d be a good idea if I went back to the Prince now.”

The Captain grinned, “giving up already? You disappoint me Dominic, I was certain you’d be a harder case then this. However, the second the heat gets turned up, you want to run out the door.” He laughed, the sound filled with amusement.

Dominic’s temper flared. “Well, if you didn’t act like a common-“ Dominic bit his lip, cutting off his own words, furious that he had risen to the Captain’s bait.

“Whore?” He drawled, tawny eyes hooded, smile growing predatory. “Was that what you were going to say? I would be very careful how you throw that word around with me, some of my closet friends were considered whores at one or more stages of their lives.” The Captain was still smiling, but there was a certain amount of steel behind it. “I’m sure you’ve been called one before.”

He stood, drawing even more attention to the fact he was only partly clothed. Dominic watch, mouth drying, as he pulled a thick black ribbon from the pocket of his loose pants. He wound it between his fingers, tugging it as if testing its resistance. Though he knew it was all for show, Dominic couldn’t help but thinking of being tied up, bound entirely to the Captain’s will. Forced to respond to the man’s every whim. The thought made him shudder at the fierceness of it, arousal heightening.

However, the Captain rose his hands, pulling up the multitude of braids and tying them neatly, if slowly, in the ribbon. Dominic’s eyes roamed, following the trail of fine hair down the other man’s body, the end of which was hidden by the thin material of those pants. He shook his head so all that hair would fall behind his back, beads singing. Placing his hands upon his hips, the Captain studied Dom as one would a piece of meat. As if he was deciding where to begin his meal.

“Are you sure you could not tell me what I want to know?” He asked, one finger idly playing with the waistband of his pants.

Dominic got the feeling this would be the last chance he would get to tell the Captain the truth before the real game started. He weighed quickly wether it was worth it or not. But the Captain could do nothing to hurt him, and he didn’t want the man to cut off his escape route.

“There’s nothing more to tell, Captain.”

“Oh good,” The Captain’s grin grew feral, “I’d hate for things to finish early.”

Dom blinked, missing the Captains movement. Because when his eyes opened, his face was mere moments from his own, Dominic had to force himself not to gasp. The man was still grinning at him even as he ducked in, kissing him forcefully. Dominic couldn’t deny the pleasure that spiked through him at the force of the kiss.

The Captain knew what he was doing and he pressed his advantage, one hand digging almost painfully into his hair, the other loosening the ties of Dominic’s shirt. At no point did the older warrior give Dominic a chance to protest, a chance to break the kiss. Dominic’s mind spun, unable to even catch up, the Captain was *kissing* him. Devouring really. All lips, teeth and tongue. Dominic wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be in the same room if the man decided to fuck him, he’d be blown away.

Appearing to be bored with the ties, the Captain gripped the shirt at the neck, ripping down the centre. Baring Dominic’s body to him. Dom trembled, mind catching up terribly quickly with that thought, and he raised his hands to fend the other man off. Both of the Captain’s thumbs chose that moment to flick at his nipples, sending a gasp through their joined lips.

Dominic fought to remember why he was fighting this to begin with, hands falling to the broad shoulders of the man above him. It had been a long time since anyone had made him feel half this good, and Dominic couldn’t quite find a reason to push the Captain off. It wouldn’t hurt to let the man have a taste.

As if sensing the surrender of the boy beneath him the Captain growled into his mouth, plundering further, pushing him so the chair rocked precariously on two legs. The fingers that played with his nipples caused Dominic to arch into them, mewing silently into the kiss. The hands travelled further, loosening the pants he wore.

Teeth bit at his bottom lip before the captain suddenly broke the kiss. Dominic found the sound that escaped him most embarrassing, but all was forgiven as the captain fell to his knees in front of him. He watched wide-eyed as the sinful man pulled his arousal free from its confines, smiling seductively even as he licked the tip. Dominic’s head fell back, groaning in hunger as the Captain took the head in between his lips, making his cheeks hollow obscenely.

The noises the captain made were almost as good as the feeling of him surrounding Dominic’s cock. The man purred, really purred, the sound vibrating through Dom’s body, making him gasp.

The Captain lifted his head.

“Tell me how you got in,” the man nuzzled gently at Dominic’s arousal.

Dominic could barely think through the haze of pleasure. “Through the window.”

He ducked in, sucking him all the way down his throat, making him cry out before lifting his head again. “Tell me,” he implored, blowing on the tip. “And I’ll let you come.”

“Window,” he moaned, hips bucking helplessly.

“Please?”

The lick at the tip shattered Dominic’s resolve. “Behind the tapestry.”

“Very good,” The Captain cooed, taking the length into his mouth, one wet finger plunging inside of the boy, curving to rub his prostate.

Dominic screamed, coming hard, clinging desperately to the Captain’s head as his whole body shook. He barely noticed as his body hummed down, but the Captain had swallowed and was licking his arousal clean.

“That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

Eyes clearing Dominic stared up at the man who was untying his hair, licking his lips. He jumped up and out of the seat, trembling in fury, as he struggled to put his pants back on. The Captain watched in amusement and took his original seat.

“You know, having that escape route wouldn’t have done you any good,” he said conversationally. “Seeing as young Orlando would not have gone with you.”

Dominic paused half way through tying his pants. What was angry, flushed skin went deathly pale. “What?”

“Orlando is in love with the Prince, or didn’t you notice? He would not leave him now for all the world.”

There was a soft tap at the door and the Captain looked away from the silent boy. “Come in.”

Liv poked her head in. “Forgive me Captain, but the Caliph requires an audience with you.”

“Of course he does,” he sighed, raking his hand through his braids. “Would you mind escorting the young Dominic back to the Prince? I believe I have all I need of him.” He looked at the boy, who was still staring at him in shock. “Remember to be careful where you throw that ‘whore’ word around Dominic, because you were one for a moment there...”


	44. Chapter 44

XLIV  
by Beryll

Orlando hadn't even realized how much he had grown accustomed to constantly having other people around him since he had come to the palace. When he had been living in the streets he had been a loner. Sure, there had been other street kids like Dominic who he called friends but he had only met them now and then, sometimes going for days without really talking to anybody. He had actually prided himself on his ability to survive all on his own.

Now that he sat in Prince Viggo's main chamber all alone he noticed how much he missed the presence of Elijah. For the last couple of weeks the other boy had always been with him. And always had there been something keeping both of them busy. Now for the first time since Prince Viggo had taken him in did he just sit on his own thinking.

And he wasn't at all sure he liked it.

He had never been someone to dwell on his future or worry overly. But now these thought crept in on him and he couldn't help but wonder.

Being a street rat had meant that he couldn't expect to grow very old or ever really achieve anything in his life. Now he was a slave and generally that would have meant that he had even less of a chance to ever become anything important. Only that he already was something important because he was not just any slave. He was slave to a Prince. And there was no use in denying that he loved that prince with all his heart.

Thinking of the fact that Dominic had tried to kill Viggo made his skin crawl and his hackles rise. Had he had the chance he would have defended his master with tooth and claw. Even against Dominic. And had it come down to the decision he would probably have killed Dominic to safe Viggo.

It was a thought that scared him. Never before had he felt as passionately about anything. And he didn't even know if Viggo felt even remotely the same. Thinking about it reasonably he had to admit to himself that the Prince couldn't ever love him as much or as passionately as Orlando loved him. He simply couldn't afford to grow that attached to a slave. Strangely that didn't change anything. That he was willing to settle for whatever love Viggo was able to give scared Orlando even more.

With a sigh he got up and started some stretching exercises. Now that the heat of passion had passed he was starting to feel a little sore. He wondered if it would always feel like that. Making love to the prince had been wonderful but the thought that he would always have to pay with an aching butt for that pleasure was sobering. 

Well, he thought with a grin, at least there was a person he could ask about that. So far he and Elijah had always blushed violently and tried to avoid the subject when Master Ian's lessons turned to the fine art of pleasure. But now Orlando's curiosity was awakened and he was quite grateful that he had an experienced teacher to take all his questions to. There had to be a million things he could learn to make his prince relax. A million things to make their sex so great Viggo wouldn't ever feel the need to share his bed with anybody else. Though he had to admit the thought of sharing the prince with Elijah was exhilarating.

Where was he anyway?

Orlando had assumed that the other boy was just away on some errant but it had now been almost half an hour since he left Viggo asleep and still Elijah wasn't back. Hopefully he hadn't gotten in trouble again. And hopefully Dom was fine as well.

The Captain had looked anything but friendly when he had come to pick up Dominic. Orlando knew that grim expression. It spelled trouble with a capital T for whoever was on the receiving end of the Captain's wrath. Orlando knew that Dominic was quite good at dealing with trouble. But he also knew how stubborn his friend could be. To see them pitted against each other pained him. And all of that just because of him, because Dominic wanted to save him when he didn't need any saving at all. He really had to try to explain more clearly to Dom how happy he was, here in the palace.

And where the hell was Elijah?!

Orlando really needed to talk to the other boy right now, needed to share his experience with Viggo. Lij would understand. Dom would probably just make some mean comments again.

A soft chiming from the bead curtain that closed the main chamber off from the corridor outside of the prince's quarters caught Orlando's attention and when he looked over he saw Elijah slipping inside, almost like he had been conjured by Orlando's thoughts.

There was something odd about the other boy. It took Orlando a moment of study to realize that it was the careful yet somehow more confident way he walked as well as the quiet happy smile plastered all over his face.

He looks like he has been fucked really well, Orlando realized with a start, I bet I look the same.

A quick glance about the room assured Elijah that they were alone. He padded over to Orlando, asking: "Where's the Prince?"

"Asleep." Orlando answered, keeping his voice low not to wake their master. "After all the trouble I thought he deserved a rest."

In silent agreement they settled on the divan, Orlando leaning back against the pillows and Elijah getting comfortable with his head resting in Orlando's lap. For a moment they both just sat, sorting their own thoughts. Then they looked at each other again.

"So how was it?" Lij asked, his smile somehow managing to look shy and cocky at the same time.

Orlando grinned down at him, affectionately ruffling the other boy's hair. "It was great. The prince is... well... as experienced as I thought he would be. But very caring and sweet and... sexy..." Orlando couldn't quite fight the blush that crept up his face.

He was relieved that it was mirrored in Lij's face. "I'm glad he didn't hurt you." Elijah said softly, taking Orlando's hand and pressing a kiss against his palm.

"I told you he wouldn't, silly." Orlando chided just as softly, caressing the other boy's face and then starting to stroke his hair.

Still the kinship he felt with Lij warmed his heart. This was something he'd never be able to share with Dominic. The young assassin was much more experienced and a lot more jaded than Orlando when it came to the dirty side of life - that included sex and killing. With Elijah Orlando didn't feel stupid and awkward. Instead they seemed to be learning at the same pace.

"So where have you been?" Orlando asked curiously.

Elijah grinned and stretched like a lazy cat. Then he smiled up at Orlando, his whole face aglow with happiness. "With Sean." he answered. 

The tone of his voice told Orlando a lot. He knew Elijah well enough by now to be able to tell the other boy's mood. And he had never heard Lij so happy and so relaxed. And so self-confident. There was only one question that was appropriate now.

"So how was it?" Orlando asked.

Lij reacted with snuggling closer against Orlando. "It was... incredible... so close... so safe... he's so..." Elijah looked up at Orlando, his blue eyes shinning. "Orlando, I think I'm in love. I thought I'd never love again after everything that happened... but now. I just can't help myself."

"But that's great!" Orlando exclaimed. "I'm so happy for you. For both of you, actually. I think you're very good for him."

Elijah sighed happily, closing his eyes. "To think that I'd find this here, when my father sent me here to punish me... ironic, isn't it?"

Orlando didn't answer. He just smiled, leaning his head back against the pillows while his fingers continued playing with his friend's curls.

He noticed immediately when Elijah suddenly tensed. "Do you think the prince will be angry?" the other boy asked.

Confused Orlando looked back down at him. "Why should he be angry?"

Now Elijah blushed. "Because... well... he wanted me... and I didn't. And now I did it with Sean... with another slave." He sighed softly, looking up at Orlando with is sadness in his blue eyes. "I know you say the prince is kind, Orlando. But he IS a noble and... well... when I was still a prince myself I would have been angry if someone took something that belonged to me."

That gave Orlando pause. Elijah was probably right in so far as that Viggo would have preferred, if both of his kittens had trusted him with their first time. Orlando clearly remembered the prince's sadness when they had left Elijah behind. But it had been a sadness not born of possessiveness but of the wish to see all of them happy. And that very much included Sean.

"I don't think he sees Sean as a slave." he answered slowly. "They are very close and he loves Sean with all his heart. He would never begrudge Sean such happiness and I think he won't begrudge you either. He may be a bit miffed but more at himself than at you, because he failed to win your trust." Orlando grinned at Elijah at that thought for it immediately felt right. "Yeah... I think he's a bit vain in that regard. He needs people to love him."

Elijah took his time thinking about his friend's words but after a while he nodded. "I hope you are right."

A bit shyly Orlando took Lij's hand again to lay it against his own cheek. "So... are you still afraid of the prince?" he asked cautiously. "Or will you now... share his bed?"

"I guess when he asks me the next time I shall go." Elijah answered but there was a tense edge in his voice that Orlando couldn't ignore.

"But you are still afraid?"

Lij nodded. "Would you... do you think there is a chance that you will be there as well...? So I can hang on to you when he... you know..."

The image Elijah's words conjured before Orlando's eyes made heat race through his veins. "I will be there." he promised, meaning it for a whole host of reasons. "I swear it!"

"Thank you." Elijah caressed Orlando's cheek, obviously with no idea how much he had just turned on his friend.

There moment of quiet closeness was then interrupted by another the chiming of the bead curtain at the entrance. They both looked up to find Liv pushing a reluctant Dominic in front of her. Liv smiled at the other two boys. "Here he is." she said. "Keep an eye on him, yes?"

They both nodded, keeping their mouth shut until Liv had left. Then they both quickly got up, Orlando hurrying over to his friend and Lij assuming something that had to be called a fighting stance. Obviously he still didn't trust Dom at al, Orlando thought.

"Dom, are you all right?" Orlando asked, choosing to ignore Lij. Dominic certainly didn't look all right. In fact he looked more shaken that Orlando had ever seen. Even more so than he had earlier when the prince had returned him - alive but marked as a slave.

For a moment Dominic looked back at him bleakly, as if he didn't really see or recognize Orlando. But then he suddenly grabbed Orlando by the shoulder. "Orlando... you don't really love the prince. You... you just pretend you do so it will be easier for us to escape don't you?" he asked, sounding despairing.

Orlando had no idea were this sudden question came from but in Dominic's eyes he could clearly see what the young assassin wanted - needed - to hear. Still it was the answer Orlando couldn't give. Maybe he would have lied, hadn't he just considered these things a few minutes earlier. But now he had to come clean with Dominic.

"I'm sorry, Dom." he said softly. He wanted to say more, to explain, but all strength seemed to leave his friend in that moment and he sagged against Orlando.

"You love him." he whispered, sounding so defeated that it made Orlando's heart ache.

"He's a good man." Orlando tried to explain. "How can I not love him when he saved me and treats me well and... well... loves me back?"

But his words didn't seem to help at all. In fact they seemed to make things worse as Dom just shook his head. At a loss on how to help his friend Orlando just held him, looking over to Elijah for assistance. Slowly the other boy relaxed out of his defensive posture and stepped closer.

"I'm so sorry, Orlando." Dominic whispered against Orlando's shoulder. "For the things I've said. I... I never should have thought of you like that."

"What do you mean?" Orlando asked, still not sure what Dom was talking about.

"That I called you a toy, a whore... everything. I thought... I'm not sure what I thought... I was angry... I was stupid..."

"Ssh..." Orlando interrupted him. "I'm not angry at you." He looked at Elijah, pleading for help. "And Lij's not angry at you either, right?"

Orlando was grateful that Dominic was still leaning against him and didn't see the first expression that flitted across Elijah's face for it was not forgiving at all. But then Elijah visible pulled himself together and put on a credibly pleasant smile.

"No, I'm not angry." he lied quite convincingly.

Together they led Dominic over to the divan. After they had gotten him a cup of wine and made him take a few sips he seemed to slowly recover.

"What happened?" Orlando asked, remembering now that it had been Karl who must have put Dom in this state. "Did Karl hurt you?"

He was answered with a strangled laugh. "Hurt me...? Oh boy... you could call it that... yes." Noticing the frown on Orlando's brow he shook his head. "No... he didn't hurt me... he just... set a few things in perspective for me." Dominic sighed softly and rubbed his face. Then he looked at Orlando again. "You are not going to leave the prince." he said, his words not a question but a clear statement.

Orlando nodded.

"And I guess you won't even help me get out of here." Dominic added.

That thought hadn't crossed Orlando's mind before but now that Dominic brought it up there was only one answer to it. "Not until we know who hired you and wants Viggo dead. I will protect him in any way I can."

"Then I guess I must help you." Dominic answered, just as seriously. 

Orlando wasn't quite sure if his decision was for the right reasons but he was sure that Dominic meant it. And he was quite relieved to know that his crafty friend was on his side.

For a while the three boys just sat quietly, each sorting through the various things that had happened to them in this long day. Only when dusk started to fall outside did Orlando finally move.

"We should prepare something for dinner for the prince." he said. "I think Viggo deserves a treat after all the hassle."

Elijah immediately nodded. "That's a good idea. Did he eat at all today?"

Orlando considered that for a moment and came to the frightening conclusion that there was a good chance the prince had gone the whole day without food. "I don't think so." he answered. "We really need to take better care of him."

"Why don't we ask Sean over as well? I'm sure the prince would be happy to see his friend." Elijah suggested, the glint in his eye not escaping Orlando's notice.

"You really can't get enough of him, can you?" he asked the other boy and ruffled his hair affectionately.

Elijah managed to blush only slightly.

"If we ask Sean to come, Karl will have to be there as well." Orlando said with a questioning glance at Dominic.

The assassin sighed deeply and then visible drew up straighter. "I will have to face him again anyway. Better now than later." He said.

"Good!" Orlando happily rubbed his hands. "Let's prepare dinner for the hard working men." He got up from the divan, assuming command easily. "Lij, you and Dom can go down to the kitchen and order the food. I will head over to our dear Captain and deliver the invitation." He grinned widely. "And then we can wake our master."


	45. Chapter 45

XLV  
by Mel

It was almost dark before Orlando returned to them. They had ordered a fitting meal for Prince Viggo and Captain Karl, the cooks had seemed pleased. They had rushed the two boys back to their rooms, being careful not to mention to the rest of the kitchen slaves, or the boys, that neither the Prince or the Captain had eaten well today. They had begun preparation straight away, bent on ensuring that both men had at least one proper meal this day.

As such, when Elijah and Dom returned to the room in silence, Orlando was still not to be found. Both boys looked at each other. Night was beginning to fall and it would be dark very soon. They set about lighting the candles through out the room and Dom took the time to set a small fire starting in the hearth in the centre. Orlando walked in as they finished.

“What took so long?” Elijah asked, fluffing pillows as Ian had instructed them, making sure the circle of them was as far away from the fire as possible. He batted Dom’s hands away when the other boy tried to move them closer to the fire, causing him to scowl. “You’ll be sorry when you set us all alight.”

Orlando smiled mysteriously, choosing not to answer. “Sean and Karl will both be arriving soon.”

Elijah’s eyes narrowed, but he let the other boy keep his secret. “The kitchen will have the food ready shortly too.”

“Then we’d best wake our Prince, stay here a moment Dom,” the taller boy grabbed Elijah by the arm, dragging him through to the prince bedchamber. “You will have to get used to this sooner or later,” Orlando hissed to him.

Orlando dragged the unwilling Elijah with him into their prince’s rooms. When they came through the beaded curtain, it took a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the change in light, Orlando used that time to carefully light a few candles in the darkness.

Elijah watched as the sight of their Prince came into being.

Viggo looked peaceful in his rest. Elijah felt his heart lurch slightly, staring at the man that now owned the three of them. The man that, when you thought about it, had saved him from pretty much everything that had fallen in his life. He and Sean.

He couldn’t help the smile that graced his face, Orlando catching his eye and answering it with one of his own. The taller boy made a shooing gesture, egging him on towards their prince as he lit another candle. Padding quietly over to him, Elijah paused before sitting on the divan.

Viggo sat up as Elijah’s weight sunk down onto the bed, surprising both boys. Elijah yelped as sudden hands caught his wrists and he found himself slammed down into the bed. Elijah looked up, startled as his Prince straddled him, hands pressing his wrists into the mattress. Elijah held his breath as he watched the Prince’s eyes clear, watched his face soften as he realised it was Elijah beneath him.

“My Lord?” Elijah asked gently, fearing he had offended the man, that Orlando had indeed been wrong about the Prince’s reaction to him not sharing the bed with the two of them.

Viggo sat back, releasing Elijah’s wrists he ran a hand over his face and through his hair. “I am sorry Elijah, it seems the last few nights have kept me much more high strung then I would have hoped. I have not hurt you, have I?”

Given the position of his Prince, and Elijah’s stubborn streak to get to know the man to the level of intimacy Orlando had reached, Elijah propped himself up on his elbows, craning his neck so he could kiss the base of his Lord’s throat gently. “No, my Lord, but I fear you will soon enough.”

Viggo’s worry increased. “Why, what has happened?” Noticing Orlando moving around the room, watching them both, he asked, “you have not broken one of Dominic’s bones have you?”

Elijah laughed lightly against the Prince’s flesh. “Not yet.” He sobered quickly though, unable to look the Prince in the eyes, a blush staining his flesh. “When you and Orlando left me, I went to see the Captain’s slave. And I… He… I mean we…”

Viggo was a seasoned warrior. It was true, that when it came to friends and family around him, some things he did not notice until it was too far after the fact for him to do anything about it. Those who knew him, and even Viggo himself, knew that he was sometimes oblivious to matters of the heart.

But even should he be blind, deaf and dumb, Viggo still would have known what his youngest kitten was trying to tell him.

“You and Sean made love?”

Elijah nodded miserably, closing his eyes against what he was sure would be a violent, furious, reaction.

So when Viggo’s arms wrapped around him, Elijah was surprised. The bigger man drew him into a tight embrace, burying his head in Elijah's hair. Elijah was slower to react, but his arms wrapped around his Lord. Orlando smiled, lighting more candles, watching the two of them from the corner of his eye.

"You both have had me very worried, my dearest Kitten," Viggo murmured into the young man's hair. "I have often feared that nothing i could do would bring you from your history. And yet, it seems, the best thing I could have ever done, was introduce you to each other."

Tears filled Elijah's eyes and he fought to banish them away. He clung even harder to the man he had blamed for so long for his predicament. Everything had been Viggo's fault for so long in his own mind, he had constantly labelled him the villain in the stories his nannies had often told him as he had grown. It was taking time, but the image was shattering, dissolving, and leaving a man who was just a victim of circumstance as Elijah was. This was all so amazingly complicated, Elijah couldn't imagine how Viggo must be feeling.

"Thank you, my Prince."

Viggo got the feeling Elijah would not give him nearly as much trouble as he had till now. That anything that would trouble the boy would only be surface dust, and that Elijah would allow Viggo, finally, to fall in love with him. The Prince pressed his lips to the crown of the boy's head. "You are most welcome, my beloved Kitten."

"My Lord," Orlando's soft voice drew their eyes to him. "We have organised dinner for you, the Captain and Sean, as well as a little entertainment." Viggo raised an eyebrow, but Orlando ignored the pointed look, lifting the Prince's pants from their place on the floor. "If you would get dressed, we can prepare for your guests."

Viggo glared, wondering what was going on inside the boy's mind, but his look was quite innocent. The Prince still didn't trust it, but he moved off from on top of Elijah, kissing the boy's forehead before taking the pants from Orlando. "Should I wear a shirt, Master?"

Orlando grinned, kissing his lips teasingly. "I'm sure no one would mind, right Elijah?"

Elijah was looking everywhere but at his prince, flushing fiercely, his mind catching up that the prince had been sitting on him. Without one piece of clothing on. "Whatever my Prince wants." Elijah managed to choke out.

Viggo laughed quietly, pulling on the pants. "It is, perhaps, still to hot to be wearing all my clothes." Orlando's eyes appeared to twinkle while Elijah's face only seemed to get darker. "I trust there is no other surprise company involved?"

"Just we four and the Captain and Sean."

"Dinner and your guests have arrived, Sire." Dominic was hushed as he lifted the beaded curtain a little, speaking quietly. Viggo tilted his head, staring in surprise at the silent change in the most defiant of the boys. He looked to Orlando, but the boy shook his head, urging the Prince from the room. Elijah stood and followed beside Orlando, shooting the smug boy a glare. 

When they entered the room, the Captain was already taking his seat in the loose circle, Sean helping a serving girl arrange dishes of food in the centre. Elijah could see her blushing behind her veil and it made him scowl harder. Sean appeared to be clueless at the subtle signals the woman was sending him, much to Elijah's relief. Karl watched the woman flirt delicately with the unknowing Sean with an amused smile on his face. The woman left, looking rather frustrated, and Sean took his cushion beside Karl's.

"Perhaps European women are much more brazen about their affections then ours." Sean gave Karl a blank look, causing the dark haired man to laugh. "Sean, that serving girl made her intensions quiet clear."

"Perhaps you are right Captain," Viggo smiled as he took the cushion across from Karl. "I did not notice either."

Karl laughed again, relaxing, "It is amazing neither of you have been seduced into a marriage contract. Remind me to keep you both away from eligible women, it may prove dangerous."

Orlando took the cushion beside Karl, the other man's smile softening at the sight of him. Orlando smiled broadly, causing Karl to ruffle his hair, unable to stop the gesture he had preformed since the boy's childhood. Elijah sat between Sean and Viggo, smiling shyly at the blonde warrior. Sean returned the smile with one of his own, before looking questioning at Viggo. Viggo winked at Sean, making the blonde blush. Elijah busied himself with pouring some wine for his Prince, taking his mind from Viggo's light teasing.

That left the last spot for Dominic between the Prince and Orlando. Shame kept him from looking across at the Captain, filling the Prince's plate with food instead. Elijah watched the other boy's skill with some surprise, wasn't he suppose to be an assassin? Viggo too watched Dominic, but kept silent about the other boy, turning to Karl instead.

"Did the Caliph talk to you, Karl?"

Karl twitched slightly before batting Orlando's hands away from his plate and served himself. "He did, my lord and I had much to discuss, but it is all finished now. Did you get a chance to rest, Princeling?" Karl looked across at him. "Your sleep has been rather broken of late."

Viggo smiled, letting the matter drop. Tonight the whole room appeared full of secrets, yet Elijah and Orlando, who were either ignorant of it, or did not care, took it in their stride, lighting the room with their presence. Viggo's grin turned to Orlando, causing him to blush. "I slept a little."

Karl laughed, ruffling Orlando's hair again. Dominic stiffened at the hearty sound, Viggo's hand finding the young boy's and squeezing it lightly. The grey eyed assassin looked at the other man, surprised to find genuine concern in the Prince's eyes. Viggo, for his part, was comforted by the odd look Dominic sent him, and secretly delighted that the young man did not remove his hand.

A young, dark-haired scullion boy appeared at the door, silent, Orlando noticed him, smiling brightly. He rose quickly to his feet, hurrying to the other boy. Orlando was remarkably quiet in their exchange, the slave boy handing him something wrapped in a dirty cloth. The shorter boy hugged Orlando, grinning teasingly before dashing away.

"What was that all about, little Kitten?" Karl asked, shifting uncomfortably as Orlando sat.

Smiling, Orlando handed the cloth to Dominic, unknowingly forcing the boy's hand from the Prince's as Dom reached for it. The puzzled expression lasted on the boy's face until his hands wrapped around the cloth. Then his whole face lit up, smile bright as he carefully peeled the cloth away. A small bronze lyre was left in his hands. Dominic struck the cords hesitantly, the mellow sound rising in the air.

"Where did you find it?" Dominic breathed, staring back up at Orlando in wonder.

Orlando couldn't help the grin that appeared. "One of the other boys found it before I came here, on the sea shore. I was going to return it to you, but then all this happened. One of the scullion boys owed me a favour, so I got him to go get it for you. Surprised?"

"I never..." Dominic didn't know how to react, he was shocked, surprised, and, above all, in awe of his friend. "I never thought I'd see it again."

"Go on," Elijah couldn't help but be excited, his favourite thing in his father's court had been the musicians. That and Orlando's excited mood seemed to envelop everyone. "Play something."

"What should I play?" Dominic looked to Viggo, everyone else in the room shared a look and a smile.

"Anything you'd like," Viggo put a gentle hand to the small of Dominic's back. "I would love to hear you play."

Crossing his legs, Dom rested the lyre in his lap, letting the feel of the Prince's hand calm him. He took a deep breath, strumming a few cords before letting the breath out. When he began to sing, it was in Arabic, and Elijah shifted into Sean's lap, translating the haunting tune.

"Sing sweet Nightingale of times of passed,  
Of legends and emperors, of children and thieves.  
Let your voice rise above the din,  
tell us your tale, sweet Night Bird.

Tell us of the king, and the pretty thief,  
Of when she was caught and brought to be punished,  
Her promise to him of a thousand tales,  
Told to save her life.

A thousand tales, sweet Nightingale,  
Told on a thousand nights.  
Each more daring then the last,  
Till the king was captivated in her words.

The thousand Arabian nights,  
became a thousand games,  
spun in tales of long lost times,  
and blooming a love that none foretold.

The King married his pretty thief,  
Dearest bird,  
And now they have become the tale,  
That the Nightingale reminds us of."

The song ended on the quiet note, Dominic pausing to wipe tears from his eyes. His mother had sung that to him, on the lyre, when he was a child. It was the first thing he had wanted to play when the gift had been set back in his hands.

Viggo was careful, dragging the quiet boy into his arms. He held him gently he looked at the others. Only Karl's eyes were free of tears.

"Very moving," the Captain said as though he believed anything but, "for a song that is normally light hearted. I've always believed it was too light hearted." There was something almost angry in the Captain's eyes, though his tone was light. It was gone so quickly that Viggo almost didn't believe he'd seen it. "Forgive me gentleman, but I have had a long day, and I can see it will be just as long tomorrow. I will leave you to your evening." And with that he stood and left.

Sean paused a moment, and then kissed Elijah gently. "I'd best go with him, you all have had a long day too, and will be needing your sleep." He looked at each of the three boys in mock hardness. "Make sure the Prince gets his beauty sleep. He certainly needs it."

The boys giggled and Viggo rolled his eyes. "Thanks so much Sean. Sweet dreams to you too."

Smiling Sean left and Viggo sighed. "I think I will try for some sleep tonight." Dominic went to move, but Viggo stood, cradling him carefully. "Shall we?"

"Coming, my Lord," both Elijah and Orlando followed Viggo and Dominic behind the curtain, ready for some sleep.


	46. Chapter 46

XLVI  
by Beryll

When Sean stepped out of Prince Viggo's suite he could still hear the ring of Karl's heavy boots on the stone floor but the Captain of the Caliph's Guard had already disappeared around the next corner. He was obviously in a hurry to get away.

Which was the main reason why Sean had chosen to rather follow him then spend more time with his Lord. It wasn't like Karl to be so brusque. There had to be a reason for the simmering anger he sensed in the other warrior and even though Viggo had not caught it Sean was pretty sure that Karl's dark feelings were mainly directed at the newest addition to Viggo's growing harem.

Sean knew that the boy had tried to kill Viggo but he had been able to keep his own instincts in check. There was no sense in attacking someone who Viggo obviously wanted to trust. Sean had learned that a long time ago. His Prince trusted too easily and even though he had been disappointed more often than Sean was comfortable with he refused to learn the lesson. He could not be convinced when he had decided to 'better' or 'safe' someone. One could only watch his back and hope for the best.

Karl did not know the Prince long enough to be able to accept that part of Viggo's personality yet. But something told Sean there was more to the roiling anger and deep loathing he had seen in Karl's face when everybody else had been watching the assassin boy sing. And now that Sean's interest in life had finally reawakened he found himself unable to let the matter rest.

He caught up to Karl quickly, falling into stride with him. The short glance the other warrior had for him was an odd mix of relief and coldness as if Karl himself wasn't sure if he wanted Sean with him or not. It confirmed Sean guess that something was indeed wrong.

But he kept quiet, walking next to the Captain. The corridor was not the place to discuss personal matters. Especially not between a slave and his master. Even more so when nobody was supposed to learn that they were friends. Sean suppressed the smile that threatened to show on his face. Friends, brother, maybe even more eventually. Finally he was willing and able to see that he had never been Karl's slave.

It only took them a few minutes to get back to Karl's quarters. Sean firmly closed the door behind the two of them and watched silently as Karl went over to his bed and sat down heavily, dropping his head into his hands, his fingers raking through his many braids. He looked very tired but there also was a tense edginess to his moves that Sean had not seen in him before.

Slowly he went over to the hunched figure, not quite sure how to help the other man. Trying to offer comfort he laid a hand on Karl's shoulder but immediately withdrew it when Karl flinched away from his touch, hissing in pain.

This was a reaction all too familiar to Sean. The move was like a mirror to the pain he had experienced so abundantly in the recent past.

Karl raised his head, anger and pain boiling in his amber eyes but quickly subsiding when he was faced with Sean's worry and sympathy.

"What happened?" Sean asked softly.

For a moment the Captain looked ready to snap something ugly but then he just sighed tiredly, his shoulders hunching over again as he gave up the fight. Without a word he pulled the simply loose tunic he had been wearing over his head, revealing the broad expanse of his back and shoulders to Sean.

His skin was covered with the marks Sean had expected, the angry red lines a whip would leave behind. Though Sean was somewhat relieved to find that the skin was broken only in a few places. He had no idea who had done this to Karl or why it had been done. But by his posture and his grim silence throughout the evening he guessed that Karl had - for whatever reason - accepted the lashes willingly.

Without a word Sean reached for the pot of salve still sitting on the bedside table, unscrewed it and then started applying it to the marks. For a moment Karl tensed up again as fresh pain shot through his sore body but then he relaxed with a soft sigh, allowing Sean to take care of him.

Sean desperately longed to know what had happened to the other warrior but he knew all to well that in Karl's place he wouldn't have wanted to answer any questions. So he bit his tongue and kept his curiosity to himself. Just as his brooding anger at the fact that someone had hurt this man he owed so much to.

When he was satisfied with his work he put the pot back onto the nightstand. A little unsure what to do next he sat next to Karl, his hands folded in his lap. Outside the sun had set and the many lamps of the palace had been lit. It was time to go to sleep and after this long and eventful day and the not exactly quiet night Sean was very tired and he guessed Karl wasn't much better. 

So far Sean had always slept on the divan in the sitting room, keeping as much distance from the Captain as he could in such closed quarters. But the last night he had spent in Karl's arms had been a balm to his soul and he longed for the other man's protective embrace even though he loathed his own weakness at the same time. 

And then there was the fact that he wasn't even sure if he would be welcome again. After all his pathetic sobbing had already kept the Captain awake for one night. There was a good chance that Karl was getting fed up with a man who obviously wasn't able to overcome his own demons, who constantly needed a shoulder to cling to. Especially as he obviously had his own problems to deal with. It wasn't fair to burden him with the petty problems of a slave...

'Stop it!' Sean firmly told himself before he could plunge into despair again head first. Karl had taken care of him because he was a friend. And friends didn't just turn from one another when the waters got rough. That was what made them friends after all. To think any less of Karl would demean this formidable man.

Still the fact remained that the Captain did look like he needed a good night of sleep. So Sean started to rise from the bed to head over to the other room. But when he had just gotten up he was stopped by Karl's hand on his sleeve and amber eyes looking at him almost pleadingly. Gentle and - Sean realized a bit startled - reflecting the sore need for some care and affection.

"Please, stay." Karl said, giving voice to what Sean had already read in his eyes.

And with his simple plea vanished any doubt in Sean's mind that he might be unwelcome. Feeling needed gave him more strength than all the comfort he had been offered. With a smile he nodded. 

While he extinguished the oil lamps, Karl got rid of his boots. There was a companionable silence between them that could only grow between two men who lived the same life, who valued the same things. Only a minute later he slipped into bed with Karl, both still clad with their breeches, in silent agreement somehow to keep this barrier between the two of them, at least for now.

They lay close enough that they could feel each others warmth but not quit touching, Sean on his back, looking up at the elaborately pained ceiling that was only a shadowy mix of colours melting into each other in the low light, Karl lying on his stomach, his head resting on his crossed arms.

Sean felt a bone deep tiredness slowly overwhelm him but he was still awake enough to pull himself back from the edge of sleep when he heard Karl's low voice.

"The Caliph had me punished for the failure of my guards." the Captain answered the question Sean had not asked. "They not only failed to notice the assassin enter the Prince's quarters, they also nearly let him escape later, when they should have locked him up securely. They didn't search him properly either. Both times it was the Prince who had to remedy the situation personally."

Sean remained silent, his mind swirling with the many things he wanted to say. Part of him wanted to rage at the fact that Karl had been punished for something that wasn't his fault, that it was unfair. But another part of him understood the Caliph perfectly. Ultimately it indeed was Karl's fault, it was his duty to train the guards. Any failure on their part was in the end his failure. And had the Prince been hurt in the assassination attempt Sean would probably been just as angry at Karl as the Caliph had to be.

"The Caliph had me beaten in front of my men." Karl continued calmly. "To show them what their failure brought about. I think they have learned the lesson."

From the acceptance in Karl's voice Sean could tell that the Captain agreed with his own assessment of the situation. He did feel it was his own failure. And Sean was sure it would not happen again.

At least now Sean understood why Karl's loathing for the young assassin was so deep and why Karl felt such anger at the fact that Dominic was being cuddled and comforted while the Captain had to face his mistakes and work on them.

"The Prince will not approve when he learns of the Caliph's verdict." Sean said softly, feeling the need to comfort Karl as much as the necessity to warn him of Viggo's weaknesses. "He is quick to anger but also soft at heart. Often too soft for his own good."

"I am slowly learning that." Karl shifted, trying to get more comfortable. His face now turned towards Sean he asked: "Has he always been like that?"

Thinking back to the times when they had both still lived at home - no, Sean corrected himself, this was their home now - when they had still been living up north was somewhat painful. Sean missed the dense forests, the rain and the cooler climate. And of course he missed his family, his friends. To follow his Lord south had been the only way to go but it didn't mean there weren't any things he had left behind he would miss for the rest of his life.

But the memories were sweet as well. "Yes." he answered Karl's question, fondly remembering a ten year old Viggo, kneeling in a clearing, splinting the broken leg of a deer, the animal shivering under his touch but trusting the strange small human not to harm it. Sean had been fifteen then and had just been assigned to guard the young prince, the king knowing all too well that his youngest son had a knack at getting himself into trouble.

"Up north it was stray animals he was bringing home." he told Karl, "But he hasn't really changed that much, has he?" he added with a grin, "Only now he has specialized on kittens."

That made Karl laugh. "Yes. I imagine he must always have been a handful."

Again they sank into comfortable silence, now even more relaxed, each of them following his own trail of thoughts about the prince.

"I was wondering if you would be interested in helping me train the guards." Karl said after a while. "The prince said you were a Captain of his father's guard and you surely know a lot of useful tactics me and my men will by unfamiliar with."

The question surprised Sean. After all he was still officially considered a slave by everyone but Karl and Viggo. "Wouldn't that be inappropriate for a slave?" he voiced his doubts.

Karl moved as if to shrug but then remembered his sore back in the last moment and kept still. "You wouldn't be the first man I bought on the slave market who was later freed and joined the guards. I told you right from the start: it just takes some time. I am sure my men won't mind learning anything they can from you after a bed slave had to do their work and save the Prince from an assassin."

Sean nodded. Karl's explanation made sense and the thought of holding a sword again was exhilarating. And the thought of escaping the confines of Karl's quarters and the abundance of time he spend thinking was even better. To do something useful again, to serve his Prince, to have purpose - all those were things he longed for.

"I would be honored." he said.

"And I am grateful." Karl answered. "It will be good to have you by my side."


	47. Chapter 47

XLVII  
By Mel

Viggo woke with the early morning light creeping across the floor. He was nestled between three warm bodies, that had staved away the evening chill but were now heating up the room, and the bed.

Blinking his eyes, Viggo managed to focus on the first body, which was currently trying to bury itself beneath his skin. Though Viggo was certain he had fallen asleep next to Dominic, it was Orlando who had wrapped his body around his. The young street rat was curled around him and lost beneath the mop of hair on his head. He looked, all in all, adorably innocent. Viggo treasured the sight, knowing when the boy awoke, the layers would appear again, and Viggo would be left to guess what mischief or noble deed he happened to be getting himself into.

Dominic was pressed against Orlando's back, his arm wrapped around the other boy's middle, and therefore just above Viggo's groin. Viggo forced himself not too shift away, sure it would awaken the young man. Though Viggo was sure some progress had been made yesterday, due to whatever had happened with Karl and Orlando's little stunt last night, Dominic would surely be mortified with his behaviour, and be back to being his difficult self when he awoke. Having been through it themselves, he hoped Elijah and Orlando would help him understand the position they were all in.

Which meant Elijah was tucked against his back, Viggo could feel his fine hair brushing against his skin. Of all the boys, Viggo was most confident with Elijah. Without meaning too, the young man had lost his inhibitions and was opening up, to all of them. One day, Viggo hoped Elijah would allow him to love him, but for now, this was more then enough.

"Ahem."

The noise drew Viggo's eyes from the boys. He felt Dominic stiffen as he awoke and the other two kittens stirred. Ian was standing in the doorway, that small smile tugging at his lips. Viggo lifted himself up carefully, delighted as the two still sleeping boys rolled towards each other. It looked like it was going to become a ritual. Dominic too stood, retrieving a robe for the half naked prince. Viggo nodded his thanks as the young man pulled it on for him, slipping out from the beaded curtain and into the courtyard.

"You all seem to be getting on well," Ian couldn't help the smile that answered Viggo's. "I had worried a little about the new boy, but he appears to be knowledgeable enough in these matters to not need the training the other two did."

Viggo could not hide the surprise. "Dominic is just another street urchin, like Orlando."

Ian shrugged, "perhaps he has looked after nobility in his youth, the way he helped you into the robe was very fluid, and it's not uncommon for a noble to sell off slaves, or even die, leaving them in poverty. But that is not why I am here." Ian waited for Viggo to take a seat, insisting he ate the small meal laid out while Ian spoke. "It has come to my attention that both Orlando and Elijah have been very well behaved, and that Elijah even saved your life," Ian paused, receiving a confirming nod from Viggo. The older man poured their tea. "I believe a little reward so their hard work would not go astray."

Viggo drank, nodding slowly. The boy's had done an awful lot for him lately, and he still felt guilty for having had to leave them with Ian. He wanted to show them that he truly appreciated everything they had done for him. And how much he loved them. But How?

"What should I do?"

Ian's eyes twinkled, urging the prince to eat a little more before he said anything. "Perhaps you could take them out shopping."

"Shopping?" Viggo didn't look very convinced, imagining the mischief the two boys would more then likely find themselves in.

"Elijah has not had the chance to see our fair city." Ian urged gently, "the trip would raise all your spirits."

"I suppose," Viggo admitted, "Dominic needs some new clothing and Elijah is close to his size."

"It'll also stop the cabin fever they're suffering from. You can not keep them in these four walls forever." Ian told him gently. "Plus, there's their teaching to finish."

Viggo blinked, suddenly suspicious of the seemingly innocent looking man drinking his tea. "Teaching? I thought that was finished?"

Ian smiled again and Viggo had to resist the urge to squirm. "I'm afraid there are some things I am far to old to teach, my Prince. I barely brushed upon the boy's sexual education."

Viggo could not stop the blush that crept through his skin. "Sexual?"

Ian nodded, only slightly succeeding to hide his smile behind his cup. "I believe the boy's will benefit greatly from choosing their own concubine to teach them. As will you, I'm sure."

"Can we really go, my Prince?"

Viggo looked at the doorway, where the three boys were standing. Both Elijah and Orlando looked so hopeful that Viggo knew he wouldn’t be able to say no. He shot Ian a glare, who was calmly sipping his tea.

“You are a very evil man,” Viggo hissed.

“One tries.” Viggo couldn’t be angry at the cheeky smile Ian flashed.

Still, turning to face the boy’s hopeful eyes, Viggo sighed. “If you all promise to stay by my side, then I don’t think it will be a problem.”

“Dominic will be staying here.” Ian said quite firmly.

Viggo shared the opinion. “I do not treasure the thought of the person who hired you killing you as a liability. You will have to stay here this time, Dominic.”

The young man’s excitement faded, his face smoothing over calmly. “As my Lord wishes.”

Viggo opened his mouth to apologise, but found his arms full of two very excited boys.

“We can go out side?”

“Fresh air and clear skies?”

“And we can buy things?”

“Really? Our own Concubine?”

Elijah and Viggo both blushed at Orlando’s words and Ian laughed. “On that note, you had best be off. The markets will get busy very quickly, and that may cause you problems.”

Viggo was dragged to his feet, pulled out the door by two boys who could not stop talking.

Dominic took the Prince’s seat, pouring a little more tea into the older man’s cup. “What would you like to talk about, sir?”

“The Prince’s explanation has pleased anyone that lives beyond these castle walls, but the rest would be happy to see your head on a platter.” Ian took a sip, his face cold. “I am here as a warning. Do not step beyond these rooms without the Prince, you may find yourself in small dark corners with household staff practicing their fighting skills on you.”

Dominic’s face was blank as he nodded.

“I’m glad you understand. Sean will be here shortly to keep you company, the Captain has work that the other man could not be involved in. Enjoy your day, young Dominic.”

Ian left, thinking about the young viper the prince had in his bed.


	48. Chapter 48

XLVIII  
by Beryll

The morning was only a few hours old but already the streets of Aqaba were teaming with life. The sun beat down on the city mercilessly but her effort was futile as it was ignored by the many merchants haggling loudly with their customers. The great bazaar was especially crammed as a great caravan from the south had arrived the previous evening, bringing in exotic goods, pretty slaves and various cattle, including some extremely precious horses.

Jared slipped through the throng like water running through a crack in a jug. He was so tired he just wanted to curl up in some shaded corner and sleep the sleep of the dead but abilities ingrained in his life since he could walk did not abandon him now. Being invisible was vital when one made a living stealing from merchants and passers by. 

But that time was past, Jared told himself with cold sarcasm, he was so much better off now.

Absentmindedly he scratched at the mark on the back of his hand as he dodged a huge man, dragging along a stubborn camel. No more running away, no more hiding, no more sleeping on rooftops - he now had his own cot, regular meals, a job - no more doing as he pleased.

With a sigh of relief he left the bazaar behind, taking the short route through some back alleys to get home quickly. His last assignment had lasted longer than the customer had paid for. Jared had been supposed to be back before sunrise and he knew that being late without any extra coins would probably earn him a beating. Even though it wasn't his fault as he had been tied down so leaving hadn't actually been an option. But facts like that rarely were of interest to his master and Jared had learned to keep his mouth shut, accept punishment and get on with life. Arguing just made things worse.

He rounded the last corner and slowly walked down what most people simply called 'Whore's Lane'. At the end of the street, where the bazaar district bordered on the rich quarter there were several really expensive pleasure houses but down here, close to the bazaar you could find the cheap stuff. Males and females of varying ages and looks lining the street or lounging in the shade of house openings, waiting for customers, discreetly observed from inside the houses by their owners who would only appear if a customer showed real interest to make the deal. 

Jared knew most of the whores working here at least by name and there wasn't a single one who wasn't a slave. Nobody would choose a life like this. He hadn't chosen it either. He had been grabbed off the street, branded and before he even realized what was happening to him his 'first night' had been auctioned off to a pretty faced young noble and his friends.

Compared to what he had experienced since it hadn't even been that bad but it had driven home the point how very careless and clueless he had been while he had still been living the life of a street rat. And how very fortunate.

At least he wasn't working for one of the masters closest to the bazaar yet. Those sold the burn outs, the ones that had either been used so badly they weren't much to look at anymore or who had grown old. And those poor suckers never survived long.

The street was rather quiet as most business was done at night. The few customers who came at this time of day knew what they wanted and just asked at the right house for the whore of their choice.

But when Jared got closer to the house that belonged to his master he noticed a whole group of people standing in front of it. What really caught his attention was that the ones highly visible were wearing the unmistakable uniform of the Caliph's Guard. For a moment he hoped with cold hatred that his master had done something to get in trouble with the law but then he cut his hopes - that would just mean he'd be sold and his life would quite likely get worse. And the guards more looked like they were actually guarding someone than like they were arresting someone.

But maybe this commotion presented an opportunity to slip inside unnoticed and escape his master's wrath, Jared thought, as he got closer and noticed that his master was animatedly talking to a tall noble, wrapped in fine robes. The noble had the bearing of a man who was used to instantly being obeyed and the way he carried himself suggested that he was a warrior as well.

Jared would have categorized him as a hard, probably quite brutal customer if it hadn't been for the two boys accompanying him. Both were dark haired but there the similarities ended. One was tanned, wiry and bouncing with nervous energy next to his lord while the other was of light complexion and a delicate build, standing next to his lord listening quietly to his companion's excited chatter. 

What convinced Jared that this noble must be a kind master, was when he ruffled the tanned boy's hair in a gesture of almost careless affection and the boy leaned into the touch with such unselfconscious trust that it simply couldn't be faked.

They were standing right in front of the entrance so Jared decided he would best slip inside from the rear of the house when his hopes of remaining unnoticed where squashed as his master managed to spot him even through the guards obstructing his view.

"Jared!" His master's voice cut through the chatter of the boy and Jared instinctively ducked. That tone of voice never meant anything good.

"Jared, come here!" his master commanded, his voice broking no argument. Then he turned back to the noble. "This is the one I was talking about." he explained, taking on the utterly subservient manner he only used when the customer was of really high rank.

Jared immediately realized why, when he stepped closer. There was not a single citizen of Aqaba who did know the exotic face of the new prince. For a moment Jared stared at the prince in shock, his mind unable to process why a man as powerful as that would come to a place like this but then his harsh training snapped back into place and he quickly dropped to his knees next to his master, carefully keeping his head lowered.

"You see? Just like I told you, your highness," his master continued in what Jared now realized to be a sales pitch, "he has not been in service too long to become jaded but he is quite experienced. He's calm, friendly and well mannered. And of course a real beauty."

"Let the Prince have a look at you!" he then addressed Jared, who obediently raised his head to let the prince study his face, while still keeping his gaze to the ground.

He was surprised when it wasn't the prince but the tanned boy who spoke next. "Gosh... Lij... he's even prettier than you are!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Orlando." the other boy admonished with a faint note of reproach.

The prince chuckled at the boy's antics. "Does that mean we have finally found one who meets your approval, Orlando?" he asked with dry amusement.

"I hope so," the other boy grumbled, "we've been at this for hours."

"Have not!" the boy called Orlando retorted good humouredly, "and we have to pick carefully, right? After all this is important. Or do you want one you don't like?"

"You can hardly wait to get started, can you?" the boy called Lij snapped back.

"Well... I'd wager you're as curious as I am, you're just being a sissy again!" Orlando shot back.

"Kittens, calm down." the Prince interrupted the boys' arguing. He then addressed the one called Lij. "So what do you think of him?"

So the boys were the customers and the prince was just the one doing the buying. Jared felt the boy's eyes on him, scrutinizing him. He couldn't say how often he had been looked at like that but this time, being evaluated by a mere boy, it somehow stung especially badly.

"He looks tired." Lij said coolly.

So would you if you had been tied down and fucked all night, Jared thought, feeling bile rise in his throat.

"He had the night off," his master explained, lying so shamelessly Jared thought he should be choking on it, "so he probably went partying. He's fun to be with, I can assure you of that. Isn't that so Jared?"

"Yes, master." Jared replied obediently and wondered why he wasn't choking on the words either.

"Come on, Lij, let's at least try him out!" Orlando again talked to Lij, this time using a honeyed tone that would have made any whore envious. At least any whore who didn't just want to drop asleep like Jared did right then.

Still he noticed how the other boy squirmed uncomfortable even though he tried to appear still and cool when he answered: "Fine, if you think that's necessary."

"Take the two young gentlemen to the parlour." his master commanded and Jared smoothly rose to his feet again. He'd had worse nights, he thought. And he'd had one hell of a lot worse customers than these boys. He'd get through this.

He showed the two boys inside while his master ordered refreshments to be brought outside for the Prince.

"Lij, come on, this is supposed to be fun." he heard Orlando whisper to the other boy, both of them trailing behind him. "What's the problem?"

"You know what the problem is." Lij hissed back, now sounding as nervous as Jared had guessed. That appeased the young whore a bit.

When they reached the parlour he carefully closed the door behind the two boys. "How may I serve you?" he asked meekly.

"I... uhm..." Orlando replied, suddenly sounding nearly as nervous as Lij.

Jared almost smiled. If he hadn't been so very tired, this might actually have been fun.

For a moment it seemed like the silence would stretch forever but then Lij obviously decided that something had to be done if they were to get anywhere at all. "Why don't you show us what you can do with your mouth." he boldly suggested.

"As you wish." Jared replied, stepping closer to the boys, noting with amusement how Lij quickly stepped backward and pushed Orlando to the front.

Deciding that he would get to sleep sooner if got done as quickly as possible, Jared knelt in front of the boy and opened his loose pantaloons without any real finesse or teasing. Instead he immediately caressed the admittedly pretty, slender cock he found inside.

Orlando groaned and his cock reacted to the treatment instantly, hardening in Jared's palm. Youth, the whore thought, always so excitable. Not waiting for any further commands he leaned forward and swallowed the boy whole. Orlando's response was a helpless whimper and both his hands grabbing at Jared's hair.

Show them what he could do with his mouth, Jared thought somewhat grimly, he would show them all right. Using every trick he had learned since he had been forced to become a whore he sucked and licked the hard flesh of the boy, making him writhe and gasp. It was tempting to torture him, to draw it out as long as possible. But Jared wanted to sleep and the hard thrusts into his sore throat just brought back memories of the man who had used him all night.

So he brought Orlando to climax quickly, leaving the boy clinging to him, shuddering, hardly able to remain on his feet.

Jared professionally tucked the spend cock back inside the boy's pantaloons. "Anything else I can serve you with?" he asked just as meekly as before.

"Oh... oh Allah..." Orlando muttered weakly.

"I..." Lij's voice didn't sound too composed either. It held a peculiar mixture of arousal and fear. "I guess that will do." he concluded. Then he addressed his companion. "Orlando? Orlando, are you all right?"

"Oh... Lij... I'm SO all right!" Orlando groaned, slowly regaining his senses.

"So you want this one?" Lij asked, making Jared wonder for the first time what exactly they had been discussing with his master. It didn't sound as if they were done with him at all.

"If you want?" Orlando asked back, oblivious to Jared's sudden bad feeling.

Lij shrugged. "I trust you. If you say he is the right one..."

"Then I do."

A look of sweet affection passed between the two of them that would have touched Jared in its innocent sincerity if he hadn't been so worried about what they were talking.

"You may show us back to the Prince." Lij commanded, now back to his cool, assertive self again.

And of course Jared obeyed.

The Prince was sipping on a glass of iced tea when they returned outside and looked bored to tears with the oily compliments of Jared's master. He smiled at his two boys brightly. "So, what do you say?" he asked.

"We want him." Orlando announced, bouncing happily.

'We want him?' Jared thought, why did that sound so final?

He learned the answer with his master's next words, addressing the prince. "A good deal, your highness. I can assure you he will be a good teacher to your boys and a worthy addition to your household."


	49. Chapter 49

XLIX  
by Mel

Orlando couldn’t stop moving. The bazaar had been interesting, but it was nothing Orlando hadn’t seen before. Viggo’s watchful eyes had him keeping his hands in his pockets as they itched to relieve a few people of their purses. Old habits died hard it seemed.

Elijah had been excited too, but Orlando knew he was trying to hide it the whole time. They had tried some new clothes on, though Orlando had lost track of what they had bought. Orlando got some bells that were on small bands. They attached to his wrists and ankles and would sound lovely when he danced.

Elijah bought perfume, of all things. However, when Orlando smelt it, he too wanted some. The smell was intoxicating, a heady, sexual scent that Orlando knew would drive Viggo wild. He made Elijah promise to share it with him after a brief scuffle with the boy.

Viggo bought Dominic a small reed pipe and Orlando hadn’t been able to wipe the smile from his face. Perhaps there was hope yet, if Viggo was thinking of Dom.

And of course, they now had Jared.

Jared walked beside him, his head down, hands at his sides. A curtain of hair fell across his pretty face and Orlando had caught a glimpse of clear blue eyes at one stage. He looked under fed, but everyone in the city did. And he was dirty, but that was nothing a good bath wouldn’t fix. All in all Jared had been a good find, Orlando thought, though he couldn’t say he’d ever been shopping for another person before.

He was too quiet though and that just wouldn’t do.

“I’m Orlando.” Silence. Perhaps he was thinking about something. It made Orlando feel depressed just looking at him. 

“Yes, sir.”

Standard response, but at least he was talking.

“You’re going to love the palace, it’s a little overwhelming at first, but you’ll get use to it.”

“I’ve been to the palace before, sir.” Elijah was right, he did look pretty tired. He was sure he could convince Viggo to let him have a nap.

“The Prince has his own rooms, we aren’t allowed to leave them on our own yet, not after last time we went wandering around anyway. My back still stings thinking about it.”

A sideways look, face visible for a bare moment before going back to being bowed meekly again. But it was some interest at least.

“You see, Elijah had run off after Sean, all lovey dovey eyed-“

“I was not!”

“And I thought I’d better follow him, to keep the little tyke out of trouble, you know?”

“I am not little!”

“And this noble decides he wants a piece of Elijah. So I kick him in the shins and we run off. I got five lashes for it, and I’d do it all over again! No one touches my Elijah like that!”

“Do you have to tell everyone?” Elijah grumbled, though he didn’t sound as irritated as he was pretending to be.

“I wasn’t telling everyone, I was telling Jared, he’s one of us now, right?” Orlando looked to the other man. Jared lifted his head a little, looking surprised, tired and confused all at once. A small, real smile danced across his face before his training took a hold and he bowed his head again.

“Yes, sir.”

Orlando grinned, confident in the fact it wouldn’t be long before Jared would become a permanent fixture of the group, it was just that no one else knew it yet.

\---

Elijah studied the older man as they entered the cooler climate of the palace. The trip had been fun, the time out of the confines of the palace was something Elijah had thought he wouldn’t see for a while. And to be able to shop in Aqaba’s great Bazaar was a dream he had reserved for wistful younger days.

The sun and heat had done its toll on the Prince, Elijah believed he would never truly recover from his days in the desert and the heat and sun would always heavily affect him. If there was a next time, Elijah would ask for Ian to accompany them.

As attendants relieved them and the guards of the parcels they carried, Elijah’s attention was captivated by the man who was to be their teacher. Orlando had good eyes. Beneath the shabby clothing was a strong body, and the eyes, when his training allowed it, were clear. A strong mind as well.

Orlando was trying to drag him out of his shell, talking a mile a minute about everything and nothing. But other then the occasional ‘yes, sir’, he said nothing. Elijah couldn’t tell if Orlando was irritating him, or amusing him. Which was probably the safest route. For a slave, especially a pleasure slave, to show an opinion or have an argument would often result in sever punishment. Elijah had seen it in his father’s court often enough. Many of those slaves had come from his father’s own rooms.

He also noticed that the merchant had been lying.

Unless Jared’s idea of fun was having constant sex, Jared had not been out that night. His hands were trembling slightly, and though he was still graceful, he walked a little stiffly. If tribute had not gone to the Caliph, Elijah held no doubt this was what he would have become. Perhaps his father would have even seen fit to keep him as one of his personal slaves. Given his father’s tastes, Elijah wouldn’t have lasted more then a few days.

Elijah shivered at the dark thoughts, shaking them off. He had been lucky that he had been given to the Prince, who had asked for nothing more then his friendship. Jared was going to be lucky too, because, that just was the way their Prince was.

“Kittens!” Viggo called, drawing Elijah from his thoughts and Orlando from his chatter, indicating they were ready to move to their rooms now.

Elijah smiled sheepishly, capturing Viggo’s eye. The Prince smiled gently, urging his boys on home. Elijah was content, and he hadn't thought that would be possible again.

Orlando grabbed Jared’s hand, moving to catch up with the Prince. He wasn’t paying attention, at times Orlando was as adorably clueless as their Prince, but Elijah was. Jared shuddered slightly, trying to retract his hand from Orlando’s grasp without getting in trouble.

Elijah noticed the older man’s plight and step forward, slipping in between the two, and forcing Orlando to take his hand instead. Orlando grinned at him, clueless of course, and Elijah smiled back as the taller boy cuddled into his side. It had taken Elijah quiet some time to get use to Orlando’s affectionate nature, it would take Jared some time too. Elijah turned, smiling at Jared, winking.

Jared inclined his head in thanks before returning his eyes to the floor.

“Home’s this way,” Orlando told Jared, leading them.

Jared would understand soon enough, life with the Prince never seemed to follow conventional rules, but his outlook on life would become a lot brighter now.

\---

Sean had been very quiet company while Dom had been alone with him. It was off putting after spending the last day with nothing but noise, he hadn’t been ready for Sean’s silent presence. The whole time he had been there he had said little more then a few pleasantries.

Dom really couldn’t blame him. After last night, Dom was almost certain that Sean was obscenely close to both the Prince and the Captain, one of whom he had tried to kill, and the other who he just annoyed. Elijah as well by the looks of things, and he had rubbed the painted doll the wrong way a couple of times.

Still, Sean came off as a remarkably fair man, and though he was silent, there was no malice in it. So Dom busied himself with tidying up the courtyard, while Sean appeared to be mending holes in clothing. 

Every so often Dom would feel the exotic man’s eyes on him, but whenever he turned to look, Sean would be deeply involved in his mending. As off putting as it was, it soon became a game to Dom, to see if he could catch the older man’s eyes before they went back to their task. So far Dom had only caught the man once, but even then he felt a little cheated as he was sure Sean had allowed him to catch him out on purpose.

The image both the Prince and Sean exuded was almost the same. With Sean, Dom felt as if he was an unruly child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Even Dom’s own father had never made him feel that way. But, as with everyone he had encountered since meeting the Prince, Dom also felt like he was on last chance. Not even Orlando would forgive him if he did anything to harm the Prince.

So Dom was part way grateful when he heard Orlando’s telltale voice coming up the hallway. He paused before kneeling by the door.

“You don’t have to, you know.” Sean didn’t look up from his mending. “Viggo won't notice, because he doesn’t expect you to do it.”

Dom didn’t move, but he wondered if it was true. Viggo had been a Prince before he had come here, surely he had man servants to wait on him back home. Had he been treated so differently back home? Was everything so alien for him here? He didn’t have much time to think on it as life returned to the room.

Viggo came in first, though on his heels were Elijah and Orlando. Orlando was chatting away excitedly, the animation in his movement caused him to curl around Elijah’s side. Though not nearly as bright as Orlando, Elijah seemed to be just as excited, his small frame trembled with movement.

Attendants brought in the things they had bought. The first few moved around him, but the last few, obviously recognising him, purposely stood on him. Dom bit his tongue, he was doing this to stay with Orlando, that’s all that mattered.

He could feel Sean’s green eyes on him, but did not look up.

Following the attendants with heavy footsteps, must be the man they had bought. Dom glanced at him. He was older, and tired by the looks of it. Dom had felt that way before, but usually, he had been instructed to kill the man that had used him to the point of exhaustion, so there had always been something to look forward to.

Sean was right, he had not been noticed by the prince. Viggo fell into some cushions, both Orlando and Elijah fawning over him. It would have been sickening to watch if he couldn’t see the clear devotion in both their faces. Sean put down his mending and turned to the Prince, talking to him like one would an old comrade, and Viggo answered in turn. Only the new member of their brigade took notice of him, falling to his knees beside him.

The whore appeared to be grateful to be seated and out of the lime light. He cast Dom a curious look, Dom recognised him, whore’s lane had been home for a short time. Dom’s nose wrinkled, the man smelt like old sex so Dom inclined his head to the baths.

“Won’t we get in trouble?” The man hissed.

“They won't mind,” Dom answered, realising it was true. “The Prince will probably be happy for it.”

He looked confused, but followed as Dom led him across the room to the bathing area. He rang the bell for some hot water, before helping the other man out of his clothes. His hands trembled too much to do it himself.

“Did the Prince buy you too?” He asked, shrugging out of his clothes.

“No,” Dom told him truthfully, “I’m here through special circumstances. You’ll find everyone around the Prince is here for different reasons.” He was quite lovely really. Dom helped him into the hot water, ducking his head beneath it for a moment, before lathering his hands with shampoo and beginning to wash his hair. “What’s your name?”

“Jared.”

“Don’t fall asleep on me, Jared,” Dom said, “I’m Dominic. He did quiet a number on you, didn’t he?”

There were bruises on Jared that were old and new. They dotted his body, ranging from fading yellow and green to blooming blue and purple. There were old scars beneath the bruises, the brand on his hand, and an intricate tattoo on his back.

“I’ve had worse,” Jared whispered, sounding more like he was falling asleep. Dom didn’t want that to happen here, it would be a right annoyance to drag him back to the bedroom. So he dunked Jared’s head back into the water.

Jared came up spluttering, now wide awake as he could be, and Dom shed his own clothing. “What, by Allah, was that for?”

“I told you not to fall asleep,” Dom told him as he slipped into the water, “now lets get you washed.”

\---

“Where did Jared go?”

Sean paused in his mending as Elijah suddenly sat up, looking around. It appeared the boy’s excitement and chatter had finally abated, and they had curled up together beside Viggo, spent from the day's activities.

“If you are talking about the little Mouse, Dominic took him for a bath.”

He was a little Mouse at the moment. Though Sean was certain he was older then the other Kittens, he was still impossibly young. Sean absentmindedly scratched his own brand. No one choose to be a slave, he wondered what had happened to the little Mouse to have him in this position.

“That’s good right?” Orlando asked, also sitting up, “at least they’re getting along.”

Elijah didn’t look too convinced but nodded, managing a small smile for Orlando. “I guess.”

So Dominic was still a sore subject for Elijah. Dominic still needed some time to adjust to the way the Prince did things, but he seemed like a smart lad and Sean had no doubt he would start learning quickly enough. But Elijah would take a lot longer to get over the hurt the other boy had caused him. Sean wanted to give the boys a little nudge in the right direction, but it was their battle, and Sean wouldn’t interfere in it. The boys would work it out on their own.

“What did you think of him, Sean?” Orlando asked, bouncing slightly. Did the boy ever run out of energy?

“I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to him, let alone form an opinion, Orlando.” The boy’s face began to droop and Sean sighed, understanding now how Orlando appeared to have them all wrapped around his little finger. “But he looked like a nice lad, a good choice.”

Orlando brightened instantly, to Sean’s delight and chagrin. To make matters worse, Viggo appeared to be hiding a smile. Thankfully Orlando didn’t seem to notice his own unique gift, if he ever did it could be a powerful weapon.

Dominic and Jared chose that moment to rejoin them. Sean caught Dom’s eye, inclining his head, and Sean could see his posture slump slightly. Neither boy appeared ready to be social just yet, but they had no choice. They did a good job at not dragging their feet as they made their way over.

Dom took the seat next to Orlando, Jared squeezing in between Dom and Sean.

Sean had to admit, the lad was beautiful. Honey skin, toned flesh and strong muscles, the bruises were a pity and drew a sting of remorse through Sean’s heart. Had he looked like that not long ago? He wore nothing but a pair of linen pantaloons that Dom had obviously found, and they were some sizes to big for him, falling off his hips. His shoulder length hair was still damp and clung in tendrils around his face. Jared was use to hiding his face behind it, but Sean could see clear blue eyes and full lips beneath it. He had his hands clenched in his lap as he sat on the floor.

The floor?

Sean gave him a gentle nudge with his elbow. “You can sit on the cushions here.”

Jared didn’t appear to believe it, but Dom nodded on his other side and the Mouse moved. “I know it doesn’t look it,” Sean told him softly, “but none of us are slaves here.” Again a look of disbelief that was quickly masked. Good Lord, Viggo had managed to pick up another one.

“Karl! Come over and meet Jared!” Orlando was waving at the door.

Sean turned, Karl was here. He smiled at the other man. He looked tired, but he had said he was going to be busy with his guards today, so Sean expected that. Still, the Captain managed a lopsided smile and a discrete roll of his eyes at Orlando’s behaviour for Sean’s benefit.

And then his gaze fell on Jared.

Jared wasn’t facing him, but something in his posture must have given him away. Or maybe it was the way his body trembled, or the intricate pattern of tattoos on his back. What ever it was it made Karl stop dead.

His face became a terrible mask of pain and fury, it twisted his face in a way Sean thought he would never see on the man he had grown so close to. For a moment Sean was sure he would kill the boy. Sean placed a hand on Jared’s shoulder, the young mouse practically shook beneath his touch.

Karl’s face smoothed out. Whatever demon they had seen buried itself as quickly as it had emerged. His eyes were cold and distance.

“I hope you had him checked for syphilis,” he said, turning on his heel, leaving as he had come.

The room was silent and Jared’s trembling subsided. The mouse may not have seen it, but he had felt the demon. Sean turned back, Viggo’s face was an open mixture of surprise, anger and confusion. He looked to Sean, and Sean shook his head. He would talk to Karl.

“You don’t have syphilis, do you?” Orlando asked in the silence.

“Orlando!” They all reproached him at once.

“What!?!”

\---

Viggo had never, ever, bought a person before. It had never occurred to him that one day he would be handing over enough coins to buy someone’s future out from under them. Today he had done it. He had bought a person for his own purposes.

Viggo would not do it again if he could help it. There was no wonder or excitement that he had just saved someone. No romance or joy that he could make this person's life better. Just the heavy knowledge that he had traded gold for someone’s life.

He had no doubt that Jared would be better off here, the bruises and scars muted testimony for the life the younger man had had to live, but he had taken Jared’s destiny out of his hands. What if he never truly opened up, if he could never leave the carefully drawn lines of master and servant behind? What if he never found his true purpose because Viggo had bought it from him on the whim of two young men?

The thoughts made Viggo physically ill.

Viggo couldn’t wait for the day when he could set them free, give them a chance at their lives back. He’d miss them dearly, and he would never forget them, but they each deserved better then that. His Kittens would be free to choose their own paths.

For a moment his eyes strayed to Sean, who was watching Dom and Orlando get in a mock fight. Elijah had nestled himself in the other man’s lap, watching with a smile on his face. Sean was doing much better, though there was still the emptiness in his eyes, but Karl and Elijah adored him and the man seemed to be healing from it. Sean deserved so much more then everything that had happened to him, and Viggo would give him all he could.

He would try to make all their lives better somehow, even Jared’s. The little mouse, as Sean had named him, wouldn’t look at Viggo. He looked exhausted, forcing himself not to fall asleep where he sat.

Standing quietly Viggo moved around their little group, being careful not to disrupt them. He placed a gentle hand on Jared’s arm, the mouse shivered beneath it before forcefully stilling the reaction. Jared straightened a little, and followed Viggo into the bed chamber.

Viggo turned to say something when Jared fell gracefully to his knees, hands making quick work of Viggo’s pants. Viggo stepped back just as quickly, forcing the act to stop. Jared knelt there, head bowed. There was so much familiarity with the pose that it made Viggo’s heart ache. The merchant had said he hadn’t been doing this long, but it was obviously long enough.

Kneeling in front of him, Viggo didn’t touch him, instead keeping his hands in his own lap.

“I know you’re not going to understand, but that’s not expected of you here, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You can be yourself with us, and you won't get in trouble for anything you do, or don’t do.”

“I don’t understand, your highness.”

He was so monotone. Viggo wondered what had happened to him when there had been feeling in his voice. “I know you won't, but you will, the boys will teach you I’m sure. And it’s Viggo when it’s just us.”

“What did you want of me, sir?”

Viggo sighed, this was going to take time. He stroked Jared’s face gently, before leaning forward and pressing his lips against the young man’s forehead. “I was just going to offer you use of my bed, you looked so tired out there. Sleep well, little Mouse. Feel free to join us later.”

He stood and left Jared, hopefully to let the young man sleep.

\---

Jared stood a little shakily, mind working sluggishly. The night was catching up with him, he needed sleep very badly. His mind swam. The smile on Orlando’s face, the wink of Elijah’s eye. The soft voice of Dominic and the hard glare of Karl, the man he hadn’t seen. The touch of Sean’s hand, the smell of the prince when he kissed him. He let it fill him, touch him, and he fell asleep, curled around the bed and the pillows.

Today had not been so bad after all.


	50. Chapter 50

L  
by Beryll

The room was filled with the warmth but not yet overly heated light of the morning sun, streaming in through the high narrow windows. The sun's rays were repainting the beautiful patterns of the wooden lattice of the windows on the slightly rose tinged marble floor. 

It would have been a scene of serene peace if it hadn't been for the brooding presence of the man sitting in a high backed chair behind a huge desk. A deep constant frown had etched itself into his forehead over many years. But right now there also was a smouldering anger in his eyes that made the others in the room maintain a careful silence, not to draw his attention.

Finally the man behind the desk looked up, staring at the two people in front of him. Both men where kneeling on one knee with their heads bowed, completely motionless. One was dark haired, the other blonde, both were lithe and even in their submissive posture exuded an air of competence and strength. 

"So he lives." The man behind the desk stated, the hatred in his voice barely controlled.

Neither the two in front of him nor the man standing by the door answered. The kneeling men didn't react at all but the man by the door shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. He knew that the current situation could not be blamed on him in any way. Yet he had witnessed often enough that being at fault was not a necessary prerequisite to become the target for the cruelty of the man behind the desk. This time he was ignored.

"Why does he live?" The man behind the desk asked, his voice rising in volume only a tiny bit nevertheless filling the room with its dripping hatred.

This time the blonde man in front of him answered without raising his head. "The assassin failed."

"Again?!" The hands of the man clenched on the edge of the desk. "I thought he was an expert."

"He is indeed an expert. The likelihood that he would fail was slim."

"IS?" The man latched on to that word. "What do you mean, is? He was taken alive?"

"Yes, master."

Now the man's voice rose in volume again, the knuckles of the hands gripping the table going white. "So he has been questioned? What has he revealed?"

The dark haired man kneeling in front of him answered this time. "There was nothing to reveal. He never saw either of us. Just heard my voice."

"But he could recognize you?"

"It does not matter," the blonde said, "you know we can not be captured."

Slowly the man behind the desk relaxed back into his chair. Again he stared at the two kneeling men for a long time.

"You failed." he then stated. "You know what your punishment for failure is."

This time both men reacted, shifting closer together almost imperceptible but remaining silent.

The man behind the desk turned his attention to the tall, bald man waiting by the door and his new target flinched under the scrutiny. "So what do we do now?" he was asked. 

He was still searching for an answer when the kneeling blonde spoke up: "If you allow us to forego mundane methods he will be dead within a few weeks."

The man's burning stare returned to him. "I told you already, it would draw too much attention!"

"It will look natural." the dark haired man explained. "A curse to wither away his health. Untraceable to any but the enlightened. Something he has no defence against. And it will look like he died of a natural cause."

The man behind the desk pondered this suggestion. "Will he suffer?" he asked finally.

The two men kneeling in front of him exchanged a quick glance and for the briefest moment disgust flitted over their faces, which did not escape the notice of their master.

"He can be made to suffer." the blonde answered his question.

"Then make it so!" the man behind the desk hissed angrily, leaning forward. "And know that your punishment for failure as well as for your growing insolence will be harsh!"

"Yes, master." Both men replied, their voices flat and not betraying any kind of emotion.


	51. Chapter 51

LI  
by Mel

“Is he awake yet?”

Jared stirred, the sound of voices dragging him from sweet oblivion. Sleeping in a real bed for the first time, Jared had slept like the dead. It had been a long time since he had been able to do that, and he was not ready to wake yet.

“Let him sleep, Orlando, the Prince said not to disturb him.”

“But Ian will be here any second, I don’t want to get into any trouble because he’s slept in.”

“You wont get into any trouble, Viggo said he could sleep, what would you do if Viggo found out you’d disobeyed him?”

“That’s a low blow, Lij.”

The three voices intruded, pulling him towards wakefulness whether he wished it or not. He cracked an eye open. The three boys were standing by the doorway arguing, obviously about whether to wake him or not.

From the limited information he’d been directly given, Jared was here to teach the boys the finer arts of pleasing their Master in the bedroom. The familiarity they had treated each other with yesterday, however, left Jared in doubt. Why would they need someone to teach them when the Prince already seemed so happy with them? Or when Dominic could probably teach them what they needed to know.

When would the Prince grow tired of having him here and sell him to someone else?

Sighing to himself, Jared sat up, he would just have to make it so the Prince would never forget him, even when he was tired of him. Perhaps the Prince would then give him to a nice Master.

“It’s ok, I’m awake.”

The three boys turned to him, slightly relieved smiles on their faces.

“Thank goodness we won't have to wake you!” Orlando smiled and Jared couldn’t help it, the boy’s enthusiasm was catchy. Jared would have to teach him how to use that to his advantage.

Dominic was also grinning. “The slave trainer Ian will be here shortly. He was the one who convinced Viggo the virgin boys here need tuition.”

“Just who are you calling ‘virgin’.” Orlando bristled, Jared couldn't quiet tell how much the boy was joking or not. So he was passionate too, a wonderful mix that Jared was sure he could use.

“Are you feeling better?” Elijah asked, looking concerned, “you slept the rest of the day, and the night as well. We were afraid we would wake you when we got into bed, but you just kept sleeping.”

Elijah would be very attentive, Jared decided, but without the same excitement Orlando seemed to have. His willingness to please would certainly be his best trait. Jared was sure the boy could be very pleasing, given the right master. And Viggo, Jared was sure, would be wonderful for him.

“I am much better now, thank you for allowing me to sleep.”

“Viggo was very firm. Orlando wanted to start last night. We were not to wake you.” Elijah’s concern was replaced with a smile. “He worries too much sometimes, but he does care about all of us.”

Jared successfully stilled the hope that fluttered in his belly. Disappointment would only follow. But Elijah appeared close to the Prince for all his aloofness the day before. Perhaps Jared would be able to get Orlando and Elijah to practice on each other before he could test their skills on the Prince.

“Can you teach me that amazing thing you did with your tongue?” Orlando asked suddenly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He was so easily excited. Jared hid a grin.

“Orlando,” Elijah hissed, actually flushing. The two were a very good contrast of one another. “He’s only just woken up.”

“Please, Lij?” Orlando’s eyes went impossibly wide, and Elijah actually squirmed. He pouted just enough to capture attention and pull heartstrings, but not enough to look stupid. He relaxed his body, sidling closer to him, wilding the smaller boy so naturally Jared was caught by surprise. The boy could charm the dead. “It’ll be fun, something you can show Sean later. Come on.”

So the young harem boy and the Captain’s slave were an item, Jared filed the tidbit of information away. He wondered if the Prince knew, and guessed that he must. The two boys were open enough with their talk to mention it aloud, it must be something they all knew.

“Jared’s tired,” Elijah tried, squirming stubbornly, trying to withstand Orlando’s look.

“I’m awake now,” Jared smiled, Elijah looked every bit the frightened kitten. He would ensure that the younger man would get over this fear of performing. He did have a duty to the prince after all, whether the Prince wanted it or not. “And I’d be happy to start teaching you both.”

Orlando grinned in delight as Jared stood and motioned them closer. He had to drag Elijah, but it was expected, the boy must be nervous about all this. Jared smiled gently, reassuring the youngest kitten.

“Relax,” Jared told him, stroking his face. The young man practically trembled so Jared leant forward, needing to comfort him, and kissed him gently. Soft lips returned the kiss, he tasted sweet, like milk and honey, and slowly he relaxed. He kissed well but was plaint, letting Jared set the speed. Elijah melted, mewing gently into the kiss. When Jared lifted his head, the boy seemed much calm, clinging to his body. His breathing had also changed, he was becoming aroused.

“Do I get one?” Orlando looked impatient, but had, somehow, managed to keep his hands to himself. Dom leant against the wall, smiling as he and Jared shared a look. Still holding Elijah to him Jared threaded his fingers in Orlando’s hair, pulling him into a kiss. The differences were instantaneous. Orlando Kissed a little harder, a little surer then Elijah, but he still fumbled at the finer aspects. He kissed passionately and impatiently, and it was obvious that Elijah had more kisses then his older companion.

Jared slowed the kiss almost forcefully, making Orlando slow down, take his time. Orlando explored gently now, tasting Jared, reaching out to touch him. Orlando was a lot more curious then Elijah and while Elijah had let him lead everything, he was on equal footing with Orlando.

He pulled back and Orlando gasped, eyes wide and impossibly aroused. “You’re very good at that.”

“I should be,” Jared smiled cheekily, making Orlando grin, kissing him lightly again. He turned to Elijah who looked just as wide eyed. Both of them were really quiet adorable. Slowly he pushed him onto the bed, taking his time he joined the young boy. Orlando stood above them as Jared kissed him again, calming him down a little more, before sitting back. Coaxing Orlando onto the bed he watched the older boy crawl up Elijah’s body.

Elijah followed his movements, breath hitching as Orlando hovered over top of his body. They kissed without being told, hungry and sweet, Elijah’s fingers got lost in Orlando’s hair and Orlando’s hands stroked Elijah’s chest. They were quiet enthusiastic, Jared noted, hand gently stroking Orlando’s back as he lay beside them. But, while there was plenty of passion, there was no skill, no real care except in what felt good at the time.

When they broke the kiss, Jared nudged Orlando and the boy started to kiss and lick his way down Elijah’s body. Jared forced him to take his time, to tease Elijah mercilessly. Elijah squirmed and gasped as Orlando paused to play with his nipples. Jared untied Elijah’s pants, pulling his growing erection and stroked it from base to tip. Elijah gasped wetly when Jared flicked his wrist just so, squeezing him too life. Orlando made a delighted purring sound, mouthing down the kitten’s belly.

“These things shouldn’t be rushed all the time, enjoy tasting him, touching him,” Jared cooed. “That’s right, it’s not about your pleasure or discomfort, you have to focus on what the Prince wants. Lick the head a little, Orlando, it’s very sensitive.”

Orlando followed the instruction, licking Elijah gently, then a little harder when Elijah moaned. Jared put a restraining hand on Elijah’s belly as his hips bucked a little, trying to choke Orlando as he took just the head into his mouth.

“You will have to learn to swallow Orlando, the Prince may choose to use you as he wishes, it’ll make things easier on you if you can without choking.” Orlando paused, eyes looking to him. It was almost as Orlando didn’t believe him. But he swallowed all that he could, Elijah mewed above him.

“Flick your tongue around the shaft, the vein is especially erotic, press your tongue against it.” Elijah cried out, hands digging suddenly digging into Orlando’s scalp. “Swallow around him,” Jared murmured, “take him a little further in. That’s right. Try bobbing your head, but not so fast.” Jared’s spare hand reached out, gently guiding the young man’s speed. Elijah was panting quiet heavily by this point.

“I’m gonna-“

Jared leaned down, kissing the pouting lips, giving Elijah permission. Elijah clung to Jared, surging up to him, making a muffled little noise as he exploded. Jared’s hand kept Orlando in place, but he need not have worried, Orlando swallowed eagerly, taking down the other boy’s offering. Carefully broke the kiss as Elijah went limp beside him.

“Make sure to clean him up, most nobility don’t enjoy their seed on their own clothing.”

Orlando obeyed, letting the cock slip from his mouth, licking it clean. He finished, looking expectantly at Jared. “Did I do ok?”

Jared couldn’t help but smile, Orlando’s need to please and praise was amazing. “Very well, why don’t you ask Elijah?”

“Mphm,” the noise Elijah made sounded pleased, though he appeared to have lost the words.

Orlando grinned in delight, kissing Jared enthusiastically. No wonder the Prince adored him, the boy was beautifully innocent, a rare find anywhere.

Light applause from the door drew their attention sharply. A tall man with the look of a seasoned warrior stood there, his hair greying from age, but an almost fatherly air surrounded him. He looked pleased. “I had come here to meet the new addition, but I had not expected your instruction to have started already. You did very well Orlando, and you do this old man proud.”

Orlando managed to look pleased and bashful at the same time. “You’re not old Master Ian, and thank you. This is Jared.”

“Well, let's take a look at you young man, kneel up.” Jared knelt before the old man, wondering who he could be, with Orlando on such friendly terms with him. Still, he knelt silently, head bowed.

“You needn't be so formal with me, young one, I am Master Ian, the slave trainer, you only need worry about me if you get into trouble like the boys do.” He made a small clucking sound, cupping his chin and lifting Jared’s face gently. “You are quiet lovely, you will have to see Liv about these bruises, she will have some of her magnificent balm somewhere.”

Master Ian paused, looking to Dominic, who still stood, silently by the door. “I assume Dominic needs no tutoring?”

“No sir,” Jared answered silently, “Dominic worked among the whores long before I did. I am sure there would be some things he could teach me.”

“Really?”

Jared was surprised by the cold tone as Elijah sat up beside him. The nervous boy was long gone and a young man seethed in his place.

“’Whores’ are we? It sounds like you’re a fine one to talk.”

“Lij?” Orlando placed a hand on the other boy’s shoulder, which Elijah shook off.

“Don’t coddle him, he treated you just as harshly. You might like to brush it off, but I’m not going to.” Elijah fixed Dominic with a hard glare, obviously furious about something Jared had missed. “You called us Whores and Toys, it sounds like you were too.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dom told him blankly.

“Oh,” Elijah’s voice took on almost wondrous glee. “That’s it, is it? You had to kill the man you whored for.” The stiffness that entered Dominic’s frame was answer enough.

Killed? Jared suddenly felt he did not want to hear this. That he didn’t want to know.

“At least we love the man we whore for,” the words dripped their venom. Jared felt light headed, staring into the haunted grey eyes of the silent man. “I will never forgive you for trying to murder the Prince.”

The silence in the room made Jared’s head pound.

“Murder?” He whispered, staring wildly at Dominic.

There had been drama among the whores soon after Jared had been branded. A nobleman had winded up dead, the whore who had served him that night long since gone. Rumours had flown, but when no one had been caught or beheaded, they died, like many did. Jared had missed the grey eyed whore with the quirky smile who disappeared after the incident. Sometimes he had wished the boy had taken him with him. 

“You tried to murder the Prince?”

“Perhaps Dominic should come with me,” Ian murmured. “It was lovely to meet you, Jared, I am sure I will see you again. Come along Dominic.” He left the room silently, Dominic following. He looked over his shoulder, catching Jared’s eye once more. Regret shone on the glassy surface, and then he too was gone.


	52. Chapter 52

LII  
by Beryll

The last couple of days had been surprisingly calm considering the whirlwind of things that had happened around Dominic's arrival at the palace.

Karl still wasn't convinced that the hellcat wasn't planning something but the boy had managed to keep out of trouble and now pretended to be a perfect little slave. Karl didn't buy it. His guards were on orders to always keep an eye on Dom and Karl was very sure that this time his orders would be strictly followed.

The kittens had spent the days with their new toy, which meant they couldn't get into other mischief.

What had Karl much more worried was the fact that the Prince seemed exhausted. By now he should have been fully recovered from his ordeal with Au Nafud but it seemed to Karl that he was growing paler with each passing day, while the dark circles under his eyes deepened and his temper grew shorter.

Sean on the other hand was getting better with each passing day. The sparkle of life had returned to his eyes. There was still a lingering shadow of dark memories but he smiled more readily. Karl had started taking him along almost everywhere to help him with his daily duties and the guards had only needed one training session with the seasoned foreign warrior to fully accept and respect him. In fact they were just as grateful for Sean teaching them new fighting techniques as Karl had predicted. And to see the way Sean moved with a sword in his hand was a joy in itself. The man had the grace of a desert cat and at the same time he moved with the efficient purpose of a man who had fought on a battlefield till style and grace gave way to simple survival and turned into slaughter.

The more time Karl spend with Sean the more he realized that they were brothers in almost everything. This was the man he would have needed by his side in his childhood. A man that led by example and that Karl would follow into any fight. Just as he knew Sean would be right by his side in any fight Karl entered.

But right now they were pitted against each other, both of them trying there utmost to battle the other into submission, using every special move, every extra speed or strength and every dirty trick in the book to gain the upper hand. And they were pretty evenly matched.

Dodging a series of Karl's fastest blows Sean was obviously trying to find an opening in Karl's defence. To see those bright green eyes follow his every move with the burning fire of a warrior high on adrenaline it was hard to concentrate on the fight.

Still Karl was completely taken by surprise when the attack didn't come in the form of a blade sneaking through but by a sudden hard kick to his shin that made him loose his balance. Moments later he found himself on his back, Sean looming above him, the blunt tip of his practise sword against Karl's throat.

Sean grinned widely.

"If your mind wanders during a fight at least make an effort not to show it." he admonished companionably, withdrawing the sword and stretching out his hand to help Karl back to his feet.

Karl accepted the offered hand and got up, rolling his shoulders as the skin on his back protested the mistreatment. The mark of the whip were healing fast but not fast enough for Karl's taste. He had had to turn down the Prince when he had asked for a training session. He completely agreed with Sean that it would be best to keep the whipping secret from Viggo. With his current foul mood he would probably just snap.

"That was not exactly the most honourable way to show me the error of my ways." Karl returned the banter.

"Be grateful I didn't kick more sensitive parts, most honoured Captain." Sean answered.

Karl winced. He had learned first hand that Sean didn't consider such moves beneath himself. And so had several guards. By now they were adopting what Sean called a 'bar-brawl style'. Karl wasn't entirely sure if the Caliph would agree with his guards fighting like that but what he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

Karl was about to add another snotty comment when he noticed that Sean had suddenly grown very still, his eyes fixed on somebody behind Karl. Somebody who must just have entered the small, isolated yard they used for their training. Not somebody Sean feared, Karl guessed from the expression on his face. But still somebody to grow anxious over.

He turned around to find Prince Viggo standing in the archway to the yard, his face a frozen mark of shock and his grey eyes stormy with rage threatening to break loose. For a moment Karl had no idea what the Prince was angry about but than he realized that he had been standing with his back to the prince. His exposed back. So much for keeping things secret.

Before he had a chance to offer an explanation Viggo was already stalking into the yard, fists balled at his sides, looking ready to explode. "What, all the gods happened to you?!" he growled, his rage barely contained, "Who did that to you?!"

Karl flinched at the raw emotion in Viggo's voice. If there had been any doubt that he belonged to the circle of people dear to the Prince it was now obliterated but at that moment that was no consolation to Karl.

"The Caliph saw fit to have me punished for my failure." he answered truthfully.

"Failure? When did you ever fail him?!"

Just as Sean had predicted the Prince didn't see the obvious. A quick glance over to Sean showed Karl that the other warrior was studying his practise sword for chinks. He didn't plan to get involved in this argument and Karl couldn't blame him.

Viggo had other ideas. "Sean! Did you know about this?!" he snapped at the blonde man.

Sean looked back at the Prince calmly. "Yes, my lord."

"I did not fail the Caliph but you." Karl intervened. Sean had kept quiet for good reasons. Karl wouldn't allow him to take any blame.

Viggo's face took on a puzzled expression that didn't quite manage to drown out the anger. "You never failed me."

Karl bowed his head. "I did, my lord." he said, swallowing the lump of guilt he felt in his throat at the fact that his laxness had nearly gotten the prince killed. "If I had trained my guards better the assassin would never have gotten into your bedroom. And he wouldn't have had a chance to try and escape either."

The storm in Viggo's eyes grew heavier. "THAT is what he had you punished for?!" he bellowed. "Dom used a fucking SECRET CORRIDOR! How on earth were you or your guards supposed to know about that?!! I can't believe Hugo would have you punished for something beyond your power!! And HOW DARE HE DO IT WITHOUT ME HAVING A SAY IN IT!!!"

Both Karl and Sean instinctively ducked from the rage that filled the small yard. Karl had never seen the Prince this angry and to know that he was the reason for it was anything but pleasant. He tried to say more but before he could get out another word he was grabbed by the arm and forcefully propelled towards the archway leading from the yard.

"This will not do!" Prince Viggo hissed, cold anger and burning rage warring in his voice. "I will hear what Hugo has to say about this!"

That was pretty much the last person Karl wanted to see get involved at this point. But matters were quite obviously out of his hands now. So he didn't resist when Viggo pushed him through the corridors, ignoring the confused stares of people they passed.

At least it was early afternoon and that meant morning audience was over and Viggo would not face the Caliph in the throne room. It took them a few minutes to get to Caliph Hugo's private suite but that was not enough time for Karl to formulate any plan on how to avoid the confrontation. When Viggo flung open the door, Karl was grateful that the guards stationed there didn't try to challenge him. It might have been a fatal mistake.

Viggo didn't hesitate to announce his arrival. "Father, I demand to see you!" he bellowed, making all servants present scuttle away.

It didn't take the Caliph more than a few heartbeats to arrive on the scene. He was still wearing the ornate robes of audience and Karl guessed that he must have been quite busy. He didn't look to be in the best of moods either. Still he at least tired to stay civil.

"What is this commotion about?" he asked the Prince and then fixed Karl with a cold stare, of course blaming him.

Karl did the sensible thing and dropped to his knees to try to remove himself from harms way.

"Karl said you had him punished for failing me?" Viggo asked, his voice only calm at the surface but seething with anger underneath.

"Yes." the Caliph answered calmly.

Karl thanked Allah that he was not as easily provoked as the Prince. Still he felt disaster looming over their heads.

As if he was trying to prove him right Viggo hissed: "You had him whipped? How can you do that to a man who has served you so loyally?!"

"He failed my son." Hugo replied, his voice icy. "Failure must be punished."

"And I don't get a say in whether he failed me or not?! I say he did not fail me! I say he serves me just as loyally and perfectly as he serves you!"

"And that is exactly why you were not consulted on the matter." the Caliph stated flatly.

From his kneeling position Karl could see that Viggo's knuckles were turning white were he clenched his fists harder and harder. Karl's thoughts were racing but he simply had no idea how to defuse the tension between the Caliph and the Prince.

"To grant the assassin mercy was barely acceptable," the Caliph continued, "but the failure of the Captain had to be justly punished. And as you were incapable of doing it I had to do it."

Viggo's mouth opened and closed a few times before he was able to form an answer. "That isn't just punishment," he then growled, "that is pure spite! That is your way of dealing with your own failure to protect your children!"

The silence that descended over the room was choking. Karl felt like kneeling wasn't enough, like he should be lying flat on his face instead to somehow escape.

"Out." The Caliph finally hissed, thunder coiling in his voice. "Out of my eyes!"

For a moment longer the two men stared at each other. Then Viggo turned on his heel and strode out, his boots ringing on the marble floor.

Karl didn't move. Glancing up from below his lashes he could make out the form of his Caliph, trembling with anger. He half expected to be ordered to have the Prince beheaded or to be beheaded himself. But in the end the Caliph just turned away as well and left.

Heaving a heavy sigh Karl hauled himself up from the floor. The rift between Caliph and Prince was of course something that couldn't be allowed to widen. And it would be his job to repair it. Even though he had no idea how to achieve that.

Hoping that Ian would have more insight into the matter he left as well to find the wiser man.


	53. Chapter 53

LIII  
By Mel

“Filthy little assassin.”

The words didn’t sting any more, though the punches sure certainly did. They had learned to aim for the bruises that were already there instead of creating new ones. Ian would punish them all if he showed new bruises, after all, he was in his unofficial care. But the other slaves had learnt Dom wouldn’t complain, and they could get away with a nasty jab.

Ian knew what was going on, Dominic could tell every time he asked why the bruises hadn’t begun to fade and Dominic kept silent. But there was nothing Ian could do if Dominic chose not to tell him who was harming him.

With every punch or pinch Dom received he realized how much the Prince was loved among his people, but he couldn’t understand why. The Prince did everything backwards and the wrong way around. He had let things slide that should have been severely punished, and grew angry at things that were common place. He took away the freedom of four people and felt both relieved and upset by it in ways Dom couldn’t understand.

If it hurt him, why do it? Why, when people like Orlando, Jared and even Elijah understood? Did he really think he could save everyone? Dominic wondered how he would feel when he realized some people just couldn’t be saved.

Dominic had been caught again carrying bed clothes to Ian’s chamber, where he was sleeping in a small cot in the adjoining room. The other slaves were always careful to catch him out when Ian was not around, they seemed even more furious that Ian had taken him in and was protecting him as much as he could. That was another thing that Dominic couldn’t understand.

On the first day, when Viggo had realized he was missing, Ian had told him that he believed Dominic caused a disruption in the boys, and that he would benefit from time spent in the slaves' quarters. As soon as the Prince had left, Ian informed him he would not be staying with the other slaves, contradicting what he had told Viggo, but that he would be helping him with Ian’s own duties.

Dominic had fetched things for Ian for the last few days, he had cleaned the man’s rooms everyday. Dominic had never been more idle in all his life. But when he asked when he was going back to the Prince’s rooms, Ian’s answer had always been the same.

“Soon.”

It was almost as if the old man was waiting for something. Dominic could not be certain what it might be and it drove him mad. Waiting games had never been Dominic’s strong suit, especially when he didn’t know what he was waiting for. Surely it would be better if he could just go back to the rooms, face the fact that Jared hated him, and get on with his prison sentence?

Sighing Dominic knelt, protecting his bruised side should anyone come past and try to kick him again. He picked up the fallen linen. Pale hands joined him in picking them up. Dom was surprised when he found himself looking up into the calm green eyes of Sean, the Captain’s slave boy. Not that you could call him a boy, Sean was certainly all man, nor could you call him a slave for that matter. Sean seemed to be one of the most defiant people Dominic had ever met. Which, therefore, begged the question: Why was he the Captain’s slave when he so obviously wasn’t?

No one had ever been forthcoming about his relationship to the Prince either, but Dominic assumed that was because no one but the Prince, the Captain and Sean knew. The three of them hadn’t been too open about it, not that Dominic had ever got the chance to ask.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.” The warm voice rumbled in amusement, rubbing Dominic’s fur the wrong way.

“Why are you here?” Dom hissed, standing, cradling the cloth once more to his chest.

Sean stood with him. Damn the man for being so tall. 

“And I wasn’t hiding.”

“I came to find you.”

There was no forthcoming reason, no ‘Viggo sent me to check up on you’. Dominic shook his head, moving towards Ian’s rooms.

“Well you found me, and I’m fine, as you can see. Why don’t you go report back to the Prince?” 

Dom knew he was being a little harsh, but he was getting tired of being here, he just wanted to get back to Viggo’s rooms. To curl up like a good little boy in that bed and forget he had ever had any freedom. Forget that he’d ever had a best friend that had never looked twice at anyone else. 

“The Prince didn’t send me here, he had a meeting with the Caliph that could not be delayed.” 

The slightly worried tone in Sean’s voice was lost on Dom. 

“I came because the rooms seemed empty without you.”

Dominic snorted disbelievingly. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.” 

Ian must have gone out, because his rooms were empty when they arrived. Dominic refrained from cursing, it would have been an easy way to be rid of the perfectly polite man, if Ian had been there.

“Viggo said you would be sleeping in the slave’s quarters.” Sean was looking at the barely made bunk in the other room.

“He must have been misinformed,” Dominic murmured, starting to strip Ian’s bed. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do-”

Sean’s hands were fisted in his sheets, trapping his hands where they were. He closed his palms around Dominic’s hands. 

“What happened?”

Dominic stared up into his green eyes. He’d be damned if he let this man pity him. 

“Nothing happened!” he snarled, trying to free his hands. “I tried to kill the Prince, remember?”

“I know that,” Sean didn’t let him go, following him as he moved. “But Viggo understood why you did that, he forgave yo-“

“AND NO ONE ELSE HAS!”

Dominic bit his lip, his outburst shocking him. It was the truth really. No one else cared he’d been tricked into it. That he had done it for Orlando. It had all been for Orlando. No one remembered that. All they saw was that he had tried to kill their shining Prince. They saw him as he was some kind of beast to be slaughtered for biting its master. He had thought his best friend dead and no one cared.

“I have,” Sean whispered. 

For a moment Dominic couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Didn’t dare to believe it. Sean must be joking, leading him on. Lying to him.

“Orlando has that effect on everyone. If I had thought someone had butchered him as you did,” there was a soft pause but Dom could see the truth in his eyes, even if he was really thinking of someone else. “I would have acted in much the same way.”

Dom blinked back sudden tears. Someone understood. Someone cared. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, Sean was still there. He got the feeling Sean would always be there. He had disengaged one of his hands from the sheets, cupping Dom’s face. Dom leaned into the gentle touch.

“Jared will understand too.”

Dominic shook his head, “He can't. All he sees is a killer.”

“And is a whore all you see when you look at him?”

Dominic shook his head vehemently. "No one chooses that, no one wants it. A whore is never all you are." 

“Then give him the benefit of the doubt. He has been asking for you.”

Dom stepped forward, clinging to Sean. The older man took a few moments, but his arms wrapped around the trembling boy. Sean could not be certain, but the boy felt as if he was crying. Sean stroked his back, gently rocking him, humming the song he had sung to them before. 

When Sean looked up again, Ian was standing in the doorway of the rooms. He waited until Dominic noticed his presence before saying anything.

“I think you can rejoin the boys now.” He told Dominic as he stepped away from Sean. “Though I will miss you, my rooms have never been so clean. I would still stay clear of staff and slaves, and keep your manners. People will forget and forgive soon enough, but these walls take time to stop their whispers.” Ian looked at him. “Get going both of you, I have a lot of work to do.”

With that he sat at his desk, a small smile flittered across his face.

Sean led Dominic out and back to the Prince’s quarters. He said nothing when the small, frightened hand found his own, squeezing it gently. The pets Viggo collected were always the same, whether they be deer or kitten, cat or mouse. Each needed a little truth, a little care and a little love. The wild cat beside him was no different and when they got to the rooms, Dominic stopped at the doorway, listening almost longingly to the laughter within.

Sean gave the young man a little nudge and taking a deep breath, Dom stepped in.

“Dom! Perfect timing! Help me convince Jared it’s not fair to tickle a Street Rat!”


	54. Chapter 54

LIV  
by Beryll

"Lij, have you seen the dark eyeliner?"

"It's in the top drawer." Elijah called back. "Hurry up, Orlando, we've only got a few more minutes." He glanced around the main room, checking again that everything was in order.

The fireplace in the middle had been doused for the special occasion. Now a low, circular table sat there, laden with all kinds of tasty finger foods. The pillows had been arranged to form two luxurious sitting places. Around the room oil lamps burned, giving off a warm, golden glow. Elijah had burned some incense earlier, sweetening the air. All in all the place looked rich and elegant but not opulent - exactly the look Elijah had been aiming for.

"It's perfect, Lij." Jared's soft voice reassured him.

Elijah turned and smiled at the other man. It was amazing to see how much their teacher had changed in the week he had been with the Prince. His shy smiles had grown much more regular and a mischievous sparkle sometimes showed in his eyes that made Elijah wonder if maybe he would be as much trouble as Orlando when he felt fully at home in the palace.

Jared was still very careful with the Prince, kneeling to him always even though he by now knew the Prince didn't require it. But with the 'kittens' - as the Prince and Karl and Sean called them - he had taken on the role of big brother. They all enjoyed having someone who would listen with endless patience to all their petty complaints, and show them how to please, of course. So far Jared yet had to come up with a lesson they didn't enjoy.

But tonight it wasn't Jared who was nervous. The Prince had informed them this morning that he would have to entertain a guest in the evening. Only he had used an uglier term. The Prince had been in a foul mood lately. At least that was what the rest of the palace staff thought. His personal slaves knew perfectly well what was wrong with him. Prince Viggo hadn't been sleeping well for more than a week. He woke repeatedly with terrible headaches that even Liv's potions didn't seem able to cure. He would not admit to it but Elijah guessed that he was in constant pain.

So naturally he didn't feel like having a guest after a grueling day of work. Since the confrontation with the Caliph there had been an icy silence between the two of them that had the whole palace holding its breath whenever they met. Gossip regarding what they had fought about had spread quickly and the palace was split in two camps, one agreeing with the Caliph, the other supporting the Prince.

The Captain, who was at the centre of the mess, carefully kept quiet, concentrated on his duties - and was as stressed out as any man could be without snapping from what Sean had told the kittens.

Gossip had also informed Elijah that the Caliph had ordered his adopted son to entertain this particular guest, and who the guest was. Not somebody the Prince would enjoy meeting, Elijah wagered. Captain Johnny Depp was a pirate. A pirate with a fleet, a lot of money, a lot of influence and a keep on some remote island of the Mediterranean Sea. A man who the Caliph had had dealings with for many years and who was very useful to him. Somebody to keep happy.

So as the Prince wouldn't bother to prepare anything for his guest, Elijah had taken over that duty. After all he had been a prince himself and knew how to arrange such things. He had pressed the others into helping him. Orlando had been delighted of course. Any occasion to do something special meant less boredom for this bundle of bouncing energy. Jared had helped in his own quiet way with silent support and helping hands. Only Dom had been his usual grumpy self, doing only what he was expressly told to do. At least he had shown some interest when Elijah had asked him if he would play the flute tonight for Elijah and Orlando to dance to.

Now only a few minutes remained until the Prince was scheduled to arrive with his guest and Elijah was worried that he had overlooked something vital. Yet Jared had said it looked perfect.

"You think so?" Elijah looked at Jared almost pleadingly.

Jared would take the duty of serving drinks to the Prince and the Captain. He wasn't quite as apt at it as Elijah or Orlando but they would provide the entertainment with their dancing. Somewhere during the preparations Elijah had realized, that even though the suite of the Prince sometimes seemed quite crowded when there was nothing to do, the Prince really didn't have enough personal slaves yet to provide perfect service to him and official guests. Elijah had made a mental note to talk to Ian about this. The Prince really was in no condition at the moment to take care of such details.

Jared nodded. He opened his mouth to say more but was interrupted by Orlando's entrance. He bounced out of the bedchamber like a rat with his tail on fire. "Well?!" he exclaimed, turning a pirouette on one foot. "How do I look?"

Dressed in dark red pantaloons that were almost see-through, a small matching vest that showed off his trim belly and the bracelets with bells he had got from the market Elijah had to admit Orlando did look like an extremely tasty morsel.

"Ready." Dom answered Orlando's excited question somewhat gruffly from the corner where he was sitting and for once Elijah had to agree with him.

Orlando grinned widely. "Pretty enough?"

"Prettiest." Jared assured him. Then his voice took on a more serious note. "Now, one more important point. The Prince may want to share one of you with his guest. So remember what I have taught you about pleasing a noble."

That thought hadn't crossed Elijah's mind so far and he felt his confidence shrink. A shiver ran through him. Of course Jared was right, that was one of their duties. But the thought of having a stranger using him was terrible. So far he hadn't even practiced his new expertise with the Prince. Sean was still the only man he had ever had real sex with, but he managed to mask his fear and nodded.

Jared looked as if he wanted to say more but he didn't get the chance as they all heard the heavy ring of booted feet outside. By now all of them immediately recognized the footsteps of their master. Quickly Jared knelt by the archway leading to the main room from the corridors outside while both Elijah and Orlando withdrew to the bedchamber. They would dance for the Prince and his guest when they were settled and had had a welcome drink.

Elijah watched the main room from behind the curtain separating it from the bedchamber. The Prince entered first, looking even more tired than when he had left this morning. Elijah immediately recognized the crease of his brow as a sign that he was suffering from another bad headache. He hoped that Jared would notice it too and make sure to slip a some of Liv's potion into his drink.

The Prince was followed by a man who had to be the pirate Captain. The first thought Elijah had was that he would have expected a pirate to be taller and burlier. The Captain was shorter than the Prince and looked wiry and agile. A saber hung from his weapon's belt and he wore the attire of a man native to Europe. He had dark eyes which darted through the room quickly, taking in everything. He was handsome in a dark and dangerous way.

The thought of being alone with a man like that made Elijah tremble with fear. Orlando, who was crouching next to him seemed to share that sentiment as he unconsciously shifted closer to Elijah.

They both watched as the Prince took in the changes to his main room. He seemed to approve as a small smile graced his features and he glanced towards the bedchamber with gratitude as if he knew he was being watched from there.

The Prince and his guest settled on the pillows while another man who seemed to be an aide to the Captain took a position by the door. Jared poured their welcome drinks while they exchanged greetings and meaningless small talk.

After a few sips of his drink the Prince relaxed visibly, the crease on his brow evening out as his pain seemed to lessen. But that didn't help the fact that he seemed to dislike his guest more and more. He was trying to be polite but Elijah knew him well enough by now to recognize the veiled coldness in his voice.

Both men picked at the offered food and Elijah was about to nudge Orlando so they could start with their performance when the Captain spoke up.

"Your Highness, I have heard that you are collecting exotic boys for your harem..."

The crease on Prince Viggo's reappeared but he nodded slowly.

The Captain smiled brightly, unaware that he was treading on dangerous territory. "I am sure you already have an exquisite collection so I was hard pressed to find something to surprise you with but I think I have managed." He clapped his hands and the aide by the door went outside.

He returned in a moment, now accompanied by two more men leading a smaller person between them. The young man they brought was dressed in green leggings of some soft material that shimmered in the golden light and a wide shirt that looked like silk. His hair was a tussled mop of red-gold curls that came down nearly to his shoulders. He was pretty in an odd, exotic way that Elijah had never seen before.

What really caught Elijah's attention, though, was the fact that he stumbled between his two guards and didn't seem to be fully aware of his surroundings, his green eyes dull and flat and his face expressionless. When he was pushed to his knees before the Prince he swayed slightly, he was held stable by a hand on his shoulder.

"This is Billy," the Captain introduced, "he comes from the far away land of Scotland. He was captured during a raid and came into my possession shortly after. I can assure you that he is untouched." The Captain beamed proudly at the Prince. "He is a very special commodity. I don't know if my Prince has heard of it but Ireland and Britain are home to an order of magic workers called druids. This boy here was an apprentice to that order and I have seen him work magic with my own eyes. That of course makes him a rather dangerous slave and he therefore has to be kept subdued. He comes with a supply of the drug that will keep his magic powers suppressed and his mind clouded."

So that explained why the young man didn't seem to notice the world around him. At least it would have also spared him the harsh reality of being a slave, Elijah thought with deep pity. He could relate to the feeling of being yanked from one's home and treated like a precious commodity all too well.

"How horrible." Orlando whispered next to him, again in complete agreement with Elijah's thoughts. 

The Prince didn't show what he was feeling about this gift. He reached out and gently touched the face of the boy kneeling in front of him. The boy showed no reaction.

"He will be a lot more responsive when taken to bed." the pirate reassured the Prince quickly.

"I'm sure he will." the Prince replied, his voice sounding politely amused to the casual observer but Elijah noticed the strain to it.

Knowing the Prince and his soft heart when it came to boys in distress he guessed that the Prince was hard pressed at that moment not to strangle his guest.

"I thank you for you for your generous gift," the Prince said, inclining his head to the Captain graciously, "it will be remembered."

Elijah winced at the phrasing which he was rather sure was meant as a threat. He was a rather surprised when he noticed that Dominic's expression mirrored his own. So the assassin was well versed in the innuendo of politics and intrigue as well.

It was an information that Elijah filed away for later use. The more he learned about Dom the more he distrusted the other boy. There simply were too many things Dominic didn't say. Elijah had carefully questioned Orlando about Dominic but not learned anything useful. Apparently Dominic had played the role of ordinary street rat very well and for quite some time. 

The Captain motioned his two servants to settle the Prince's gift off to the side and after that they left as silently as they had entered. Whatever else could be said of the Captain, his men were well trained.

The Prince's face took on a dark and brooding look and Elijah quickly decided that now was a good time for some entertainment before the Captain could begin to notice how very unwelcome he really was.

He nodded to Orlando and they both rose, slipping through the curtains, accompanied by the soft ring of the bells on Orlando's bracelets, cueing Dom to start playing the flute.

Immediately both the Prince's and the Captain's eyes were drawn to them. In the Prince's face Elijah read a mixture of appreciation and angry possessiveness. It somehow pleased Elijah that the Prince was so obviously not willing to share his kittens - even if it was for dancing.

The face of the Captain showed a dirty smirk and calculating hunger that nearly made Elijah stumble. He quickly ignored the Captain and instead concentrated on the simple yet haunting tune of the flute, and on Orlando, as they matched their movements in the way Ian had taught them.

Elijah enjoyed dancing. His body and feet seemed to pick up the rhythm all by themselves and soon he found himself lost in it. Twisting and turning, limbs flowing with the music, feet beating against the floor. It made him feel alive.

Only when the music ended did he realize how dangerously close he had come to the pirate Captain. When the man reached out, grabbing his wrist in a vice like grip and drew him down there was nothing he could do but cry out and tumble into his lap.

"What a sweet thing you are..." the Captain purred into his ear, still keeping the tight grip on Elijah's wrist with one hand, the other fondling him with obvious practice.

To Elijah it seemed everything was suddenly frozen. Nothing seemed to move but the man's hands on his body, groping, squeezing. His whole body screamed in panic, telling him to fight, to get away. Some part of his brain remained in control enough not to do that knowing it would have disgraced the Prince - and in any case he wasn't able to move.

He prayed to Allah that the Prince would save him but strangely enough it was not the Prince who came to his rescue.

Slim arms sensuously wrapped around the pirate from behind and cold grey eyes looked over his shoulder down at Elijah. Without really comprehending what was happening Elijah watched as Dominic gently licked along the Captain's ear, completely diverting his attention from Elijah to Dominic.

Elijah found himself tossed aside carelessly as the Captain turned his head to capture Dominic's mouth in a hungry kiss. For a moment longer Dominic looked at Elijah, his eyes boring into Elijah's. Then his eyes drifted shut as he seemingly enjoyed the kiss. Elijah didn't waste any more time and scrabbled backward, away from the pirate. He noticed that the Prince was watching the display with as much confusion as Elijah felt.

Finally the Captain broke the kiss, laughing breathlessly. "Your hospitality truly leaves nothing to be desired." he commented as Dominic cuddled against him, his slender hands seeking ways inside the Captain's garments.

'Whore!', a voice screamed inside Elijah's head, 'filthy assassin whore!' But this time Elijah silenced it ruthlessly. For some reason he was entirely sure that Dominic was doing this for one reason, and one reason alone, and that was to save Elijah from suffering the Captain's attentions.

He watched as Dominic whispered something into the Captain's ear that made the man chuckle. He grinned at the Prince happily and bowed. "With your permission, your little hellion and I will withdraw now."

Prince Viggo nodded mutely, obviously still not sure what to make of the whole scene. They all watched in silence as the Captain got to his feet and disappeared with Dominic clinging to his side.

Then the Prince closed his eyes tiredly. "Kittens, be so kind as to take care of the boy... Billy... I... I need to lie down."

He got to his feet slowly and immediately both Jared and Orlando were by his side, helping him to the bedchamber. They exchanged worried glances at how heavily he was leaning on them. His health was deteriorating before their eyes. Elijah remained behind, still too shaken to actually get up.

While Jared and Orlando were settling the Prince into his bed, Elijah breathed in and out, slowly regaining his composure. Neither Jared's nor Ian's teaching had prepared him for an encounter with a man like the Captain, he realized. Knowing that he would have to learn to deal with men like that, made his skin crawl but it couldn't be helped. It was all part of his duties towards the Prince.

With a silent sigh he picked himself of the floor and moved over to the corner where the Prince's newest acquisition was still kneeling, oblivious to his surroundings. In that moment Elijah envied him for that.


	55. Chapter 55

LV  
by Mel

When they left the Prince's rooms, the Captain's hands were everywhere. His men stood beside them, but it was more like they were leading them. Dusk had fallen and Dom was led out of the palace. His feet stumbled at the threshold, almost every warning everyone had given him since he arrived at the palace weeks ago screamed through his head.

"Easy, love," the Captain murmured in his ear, biting the lobe for good measure, "your Prince won't mind, and I'll have you back before daybreak."

It'd be so easy. Just a quick knee in the pirate's groin, a dash between the guards and he'd be on the roofs and out of the city. He'd be free again.

Then he'd be a hunted man. He'd never be able to see Orlando or Jared again. And the most annoying thing, the thing that worried him the most, was that this Captain would then go back and demand Elijah to keep him company for the night. Three weeks ago Dom wouldn't have cared, he would have sat there, happy to watch the painted doll pawed roughly by the Pirate.

Then today he had watched him pull together a miracle. With no help from the Prince he had turned their courtyard into somewhere fit to serve royalty. He'd begged, pleaded and generally batted his eyelids at as many household staff as he could, securing them the best food and even a bottle of the Caliph's finest wine for the dinner. Elijah had found and dressed them all in their best clothes, had even sprayed them all with the expensive perfume the Prince had bought him at the markets.

Dom realized with some surprise that before he had become a painted doll, Elijah must have been nobility. All the signs had been there, Dom had just been too caught up in his own self righteousness to notice. What must it have been like, to go from having everything to nothing in a few short moments? Dominic knew all too well what it felt like, and knew he owed the other boy an apology. This would be his own form of making amends, whether Elijah choose to see it that way or not.

All in all, the Captain wasn't too bad. Dominic had offered his body to dirtier, uglier men with much less nobler incentives then he did now. The captain had a thick head of black hair, and a neatly trimmed beard and moustache. At least he smelled clean, if a little like the sea. He was pretty fairly restrained, touching Dominic's body through his clothing as they moved through the streets. His lips teased him often though and he was skilled at what he did.

The reasons Aqaba had been so sought after were varied and interesting, but Dom always believed it had to do with where it was situated. Aqaba's south-west border touched the sea. The Pirate Captain was leading him to the port.

His ship wasn't the biggest in the harbour, it looked like a merchant vessel which must have arrived a few hours before and was emptying itself of its cargo. Still it was a nice size, and looked that as though it had been at sea for a very long time. The Caliph would not have been stupid enough to not offer the Captain a room in the palace, Dom could only guess that the man was more comfortable on his vessel than in the palace.

The Captain led him onto the ship, ignoring the jeers of his crew. Dom had forgotten that Elijah had dressed him in soft gold pantaloons and a vest. With his tanned skin and made up face Dom realised that he must look like a doll at the moment. The deck rolled beneath his bare feet, but Dom found his sea legs soon enough, inadvertently pressing his body into the Captain as he balanced himself. On arriving at the familiar confines of the ship, the Captain's aides left him and he lost any inhibitions he had had.

An arm secured itself around Dom's shoulders and wrapped around his chest, the hand delving beneath the open vest, pulling sharply at a nipple. The other hand cupped around his groin, tugging sharply.

"That was a very noble thing you did, boy." The Pirate hissed softly in his ear, hot breath bathing the flesh. "But I don't rape anyone, you're here because you choose to be, or I'll send you packing right now. Which is it?"

The Pirate was giving him a chance to go home, no questions asked. He almost took it too, the chance to leave it all and pretend nothing had happened.

Maybe he was selfish, or perhaps he really was the ‘Whore' Elijah had called him, but Dominic didn't want to go back to those rooms tonight. He leant back into the Pirate's embrace, turning his head and nuzzling his neck. Tonight he just wanted the decisions taken from his hands.

"I'll stay."

"Oh good," the Captain turned his head, capturing Dom's lips in a heated kiss, turning his legs to jelly. "Cause I wouldn't have been too happy to let you go." His hand stroked Dom's growing arousal, squeezing it hungrily, making the boy in his arms gasp. "Shall we retire to my cabin?" 

"Please?"

The Captain kissed him again, beard scraping against Dom's tender flesh as he moved him across the deck. Dom let himself be all but dragged below, melting beneath this man's power and confidence. He knew what he wanted, and right now it was Dom.

Dom didn't see much of the ship, his own hands delving beneath the Captain's clothing, touching hard planes of flesh. He realized it probably would have been a lot harder to get away from the Pirate than he had first thought as the Captain pressed him suddenly against a wall, hands delving into his pants, making him whimper as the Captain held him still.

"Lovely," the Captain breathed against his neck, suckling at it. "You make the sexiest little noises. I can't wait till you're under me, begging for it."

A jolt bolted through Dom's body and he moaned. The Captain bit down on his neck in response, practically growling, a spare hand finding the doorknob and opening the door beside them. He shoved Dom through it, all but tearing the vest from his body.

A boy sat on the Captain's bed. He was beautiful, exotic, with long black hair and the clearest blue eyes, he couldn't have been any older than Elijah. He was wearing only his breeches, but he slipped from the bed silently. The Captain paused in his ministrations to kiss the younger man tenderly.

"Be careful." He told him quietly, receiving a cheeky grin in response. He kissed the Captain on the tip of his nose, threw Dom a sultry wink and sashayed out of the door, closing it behind him.

Dom didn't have a chance to wonder much about the other boy before the Captain's demanding lips were back on his, drawing the breath from him. Dom could taste him though, under the salty taste of the Captain he could taste sweet spice from the boy's lips.

With the top half of his body now free of clothing, the Captain's hands were quick to map it. He pulled his body close, grinding himself against Dom's smaller frame. They fell down on top of his bed, it smelled like the boy had tasted, the Captain's kisses were making Dom's head spin. The man knew what he was doing and was amazingly good at what he did. Dom bit his lip when his hands started playing with his nipples. 

"No, no my sweet," He sucked at Dom's lips, pulling them free from his teeth. "There will be no hiding from me. I want to hear your passion." Dom knew he would be leaving marks, but he couldn't help but whimper as the Captain moved his way down his body.

"Who was he?"

The Captain paused, dark eyes watching him. "He is my partner," his tongue flicked out, flicking a nipple and enticing eliciting, another gasp.

"He doesn't mind?" Dom's grey eyes watch the Captain's body trail down his own, slowly pulling the remainder of his clothing off.

"He would have stayed, if you had not seemed so uncomfortable here. He is very good at picking up on a person's feelings." He purred, feeling the unclothed arousal in his hand, licking the head gently. "He is my little nymph, and he knows you had enough trouble deciding to stay with me, let alone another person, isn't that right, my sweet?"

The Captain didn't really wait for an answer, swallowing half of Dom's arousal, driving all thought from Dom's mind. He writhed, panting, clinging to the sheets. It had been a long time since anyone had made him feel like this. Even the Prince never made him feel this possessed.

He arched when two oiled fingers entered him, crying out. The Captain was not as harsh as he had expected, but he was obviously highly aroused, swallowing around him hungrily as he prepared his body as quickly as he was able. Dom shivered, clinging to the captain's head, tugging at his hair. He dragged him up his body, hungrily capturing those sweet lips. Dom couldn't wait, and they had till dawn for gentleness. 

"Please," he begged against those lips, tasting himself. "Now."

The Captain kissed him, moving him, wrapping his legs around his waist. The man was still dressed, slipping his pants down enough to free himself. Kissing him the Captain pressed his erection against Dom's entrance.

"Beautiful, my sweet," he bit down on his neck, as he entered him. Dom howled as the pleasure and pain mixed, the Captain cooing at the sound. He kept moving forward, Dom clinging to him, panting heavily. "That's it. You're very tight. It's been a while, hasn't it, but you can take it, can't you, my sweet?"

Dom nodded against his skin, the pain gone now, leaving only pleasure in its wake. He began to move against the Captain, gasping and mewing. The man above him smiled before leaning down and kissing him.

He pushed harder, faster, one hand clinging to Dom's hip, pulling him sharply down to meet his thrusts. Dom stared up at him, and for a moment those dark, soul filled eyes became a blue that changed colour when the mood struck. A blue that of late had been dull and lifeless with illness. Dom gasped, reaching between them, grasping his arousal, closing his eyes against the vision. 

The Captain kissed him, hard, all teeth and tongue, surging against him suddenly. Dom whimpered, he was so close, just a little more.

Growling against Dom's lips the Captain buried himself deep, filling Dom, making the boy cry out as he followed the shuddering man. Collapsing on top of him the Captain kissed him lazily, still buried in him.

"It's not nice to think of someone else." he told him quietly. "Perhaps we should try again, no?"

Dominic thought of the Prince on two more occasions, but the Captain didn't mention it again.

***

Dom lay so he could see out of the porthole, the Pirate cuddled against his back, sleeping at last. Dom watched as colour started to return to the sky, knowing he would have to return soon, his little haven would be gone.

The door opened behind him and he looked over his shoulder. The young man had returned, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his hair all tousled and fly away. At first Dom thought he'd had the same kind of night that he and the Captain had had, but he realised there were large bags under his eyes. His hair was more windswept than bed rumpled. He must have sat on the deck all night by himself.

The boy crawled onto the bed, dropping the blanket and moved over to the Captain. He kissed him gently, drawing him awake. Dom turned away, feeling as if he was intruding, and the Captain rolled away from him.

There was a sudden thump and Dom sat up, surprised and trying not to laugh. A rather befuddled Captain was on the floor, the young man cuddling into the Pirate's spot on the bed.

The Captain shook the fogginess from his eyes and stood, stretching. "I believe that was my wake up call to take you home, my sweet." He took a moment, hunting for their clothes, tossing them to Dominic. He got dressed quickly, following the Pirate. He looked back once, a pair of smiling, curious blue eyes watched him leave before the Captain firmly closed the door and shooed him out onto the deck.


	56. Chapter 56

LVI  
by Beryll

In the earliest hours of the morning with the sun barely peeking over the roofs the streets of Aqaba lay mostly quiet. Still there were enough people out and about for Karl to pass a lot of familiar faces. It had been a while since he could spare the time to idly stroll through the city and today was no exception. He had a full day ahead of him.

That was the main reason why he was out so early, heading for the great bazaar. The other was that he needed to get to the market and back before Sean could notice he was missing. The other man wouldn't ask aloud why he hadn't been allowed to accompany Karl but he would wonder and the special errand Karl was on today concerned Sean much too intimately for him to know about it.

Karl had promised the Prince that he would find out who had been Sean's previous owner; that he would find a target for the cold rage both the Prince and Karl himself felt toward the man who had nearly succeeded in breaking Sean. 

So far his schedule and circumstances had conspired to keep him from doing that but today he wouldn't rest until he knew.

The bazaar was already alive with merchants setting up their stalls but Karl didn't stop to sample any of the tasty treats offered to him for free. He had made it a habit of never accepting such 'bribes' and he was in a hurry anyway. He passed the through the main square, heading for the back of the bazaar where the slave market was located and from there to the block where auctions were held. 

Where he had bid for Sean.

The memory came back to him suddenly. How Sean had knelt on the block, naked and chained and with helpless rage and despair in his eyes. That Karl had desired him then, had wanted him as one would want a piece of meat. It made him shudder with disgust at himself, still he knew perfectly well that it would happen again. That he wouldn't be able to resist a pretty slave when presented with the opportunity. Did that make him less than Sean or noble Prince Viggo? He wasn't sure.

The block lay deserted this early so Karl entered the small office where the actual selling and buying happened. The woman who ran the auction was there already and Karl was relieved. He doubted if he would have had the patience to wait for her.

Lately he was short on patience. The tension between the Prince and the Caliph was wearing him down. They still refused to talk to each other about anything but official business and they refused to talk to him either, the Prince feeling betrayed because Karl had not told him about the punishment he had received and the Caliph disappointed because he thought Karl had complained to the Prince.

As if that wasn't enough there was also the fact that the Prince was seriously ill. He didn't mention it and Karl might have been fooled into believing that he was simply tired from too much work but Sean had told him what was really happening. Sean knew from the kittens who sought his comfort when they weren't able to deal with their fear for their master anymore.

Sean channeled his worry about the Prince in working with the guards. He drove them in his training until they collapsed but Karl had to admit that they had never been in better shape. At least one thing that had been accomplished. 

The woman greeted him with a deep bow. "Captain. I hope you are satisfied with your latest purchase?" she inquired politely.

He was a regular customer after all and keeping the Captain of the Guard happy was good for business.

Still the knowledge that she spoke of Sean made Karl's hackles rise. He managed to appear calm, though and nodded. "Yes, very satisfied. In fact I have come with a question about him."

The woman nodded attentively. 

"I was wondering who his previous owner was?" Karl asked without preamble. He just didn't feel capable of polite word games right then.

He half expected her to have some kind of objection to giving him the information. Half hoped for it as it would give him a chance to vent some of his pent up anger but she just nodded and took up a large leather bound book, leafing through the many entries.

Karl watched her silently. It took her a few minutes but then she found what she was looking for. "Ah, here it is," she said, "a blonde slave, brought in for auction with a whole batch of other slaves. The man who put them up for auction is a slave trader who hadn't been in town for quite a while. Master Vosloo is his name."

She looked up at Karl again, that polite smile still in place but Karl hardly heard or saw her. He was drowning in a tidal wave of darkest memories, memories he had thought buried forever. History, repeating itself, formed a loop around his neck and drew tight.

Vosloo.

He had thought he had forever escaped that name, escaped the man who bore it.   
It couldn't be. It mustn't be.

"Thank you." he somehow managed to choke out as he turned on his heel and left the office, trying to escape the suddenly much too small place.

Images were rising before his mind's eye. Images of a brute of a man smiling down at him, teeth shining white in a deeply tanned face, sweat glistening on the bald head. Images of that same man scowling, slapping him so hard he crumpled to a heap at the man's feet. Images of that same man holding Sean down, taunting him, raping him, nearly breaking him.

Images of his father.

The way back to the palace was a blur, his feet carried him there but his mind was overwhelmed by the terrible revelation. More memories constantly swamped him, things he had thought forgotten, things he had seen his father do, things he had been forced to do himself.

And at the same time he knew that he couldn't tell anyone. Not even the Caliph knew from what lowly place Karl had come. He had been taken into service after he had at last run away from his father, after he had left all that his father stood for, all the filth and cruelty. He didn't want to look the Caliph in the eyes and see in them the same disgust he felt at his father. Didn't want to see that look in Prince Viggo's eyes. Didn't want anybody to know.

And at the same time warning voices shrilled in his head. HE knows, they shrieked, he must know that you are here, he must know what has become of you, he could appear at your doorstep at any moment. Run while as you still can!

It made his heart constrict with fear, made him feel like he was suffocating. He had thought himself long past fear of the man who had dominated his childhood with an iron fist. But apparently he had been wrong.

The cool of the palace interior enveloped him but this time it didn't offer any solace. Suddenly his home was not safe anymore. It had become a trap and all the friendly faces could at any moment turn into masks of disgust and hatred.

His father had done all that to Sean.

Somehow he managed to make it back to his quarters, firmly closing the door behind him. One look showed him that Sean had got up while he was away and that he was gone. Probably in the training yard already. Karl knew that he would eventually have to answer the question of where he had been, but right now he just felt a deepest gratitude for being alone, for not having to look into Sean's eyes with the knowledge he had just gained.

He leaned against the door with his eyes closed, and tried to breathe deeply. The woman had said that his father didn't come to town often. So there was a small chance that he wouldn't show up again, that he would leave Karl alone as he had so far. If he told the Prince that Sean had been sold by some unknown man he would believe it. He trusted Karl, he wouldn't double check. And nobody would learn what had really happened.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when somebody knocked on the door he was leaning against. With an angry snarl he turned and yanked open the door.

The young man shrinking in on himself in the corridor was the last person he had expected to see, the face, half hidden behind a curtain of hair, the way he flinched away from Karl, the way he ducked his head, ready to kneel, ready to accept anything done to him sent barbed thorns into Karl's heart.

More memories he wished would stay buried.

"Well, well, if that isn't the little whore..." he hissed.

"I was looking for Sean..." the boy's voice came out as a shy whisper which only served to infuriate Karl more.

He grabbed the whore by the wrist, drawing him inside the room, drawing him close, breathing in the scent of him. Warm, sweet, smooth skin, melting against him, the smaller body crushed against his, pliable, eager, - disgusting.

"Sean, hmm? And what would you want of Sean that I can't give you, little slut?"

For a moment the body pressed against his tensed, for a moment it seemed he would fight back, but then he relaxed into Karl's grip, willing, meek. 

"Nothing, master." he whispered, his eyes lowered.

"Damn right!" Karl hissed. With his free hand he grabbed the boy's silken hair and turned his face upward to claim the sweet mouth in a brutal kiss, trying to drown all the pain, all the fear, all the pent up frustration, all the lust he had not been able to spend.

And the whore took it all, moaning, maybe in pain, maybe in pleasure - Karl didn't care.

"You want it, you little bitch, don't you?" Karl hissed into the boy's ear angrily. "Tell me you want it!"

"I want it, master." the whore answered obediently, his voice trembling slightly. Lust? Fear?

Keeping his grip in the boy's hair, Karl turned him around and pressed him against the door. His blood was pounding in his ears.

Whore.

Weak. Willing. Spreading his legs for anybody. Disgusting. Filthy. Didn't deserve better...

He yanked down the pantaloons on the soft body shuddering under his touch. "Such a pretty little slut..." he purred into the boy's ear, "come on, tell me!" His hand fisted in the whore's hair, hurting him.

"I want it..." A choked sob now.

"Of course you want it."

Nothing made sense anymore. How could he want this, how could he live with this?

Roughly he kicked the boy's legs apart, then freed his own erection, hard with the blood racing through his veins like seething fire. Again he pressed against the smaller frame of the whore, crushing him against the door, rubbing himself against the boy's ass.

'Fight back', a small voice in the back of his head begged, 'fight me, dear Allah, please fight me!'

But the whore just spread his legs further, pushed back invitingly.

And then there was only the heat of the smaller body yielding, clenching on Karl's cock almost painfully tight. The rush of lust drowning out the last bit of reason or clear thought, the sweet feeling of letting go, of punishing the one responsible for all the pain, all the fear, all the heartbreak.

Release at last.

Spent and exhausted Karl slipped out of the boy, his eyes drawn down to where his hand still held the slender hip in a bruising grasp, to his own cock, smeared with his cum and the red of fresh blood.

The image burning into his mind.

Branding him.

This wasn't him.

This was his father.

With an anguished cry Karl let go of the boy, watching with horror as he crumpled to his knees, tears streaking his face, his hand showing the marks of teeth that had bitten down so hard they had broken skin as he had tried to choke his screams of pain. He watched as the boy he had just raped curled up, hugging himself, crying silently.

The almost soundless sobs burned his ears, pierced his heart, killed every last bit of rage or lust and left only the bare fact of what he had done.

Unable to face his deed, Karl yanked open the door and fled.


	57. Chapter 57

LVII  
By Mel

With nowhere else to put him, the Kittens had covered Billy with a warm blanket and got him some pillows. They had taken turns that night, shifting between watching Viggo toss and turn and Billy’s deathlike sleep.

Of the three of them only Elijah didn’t sleep a wink.

At one stage, when the sun was coming up, Elijah sat beside Billy, his knees tucked up under his chin, watching the slack, youthful face for signs of life. He thought of Dominic, wondering where he was now, and what he might be doing. Had the Pirate had his way with him? Had he liked it? Hated it? Not really cared?

Was he thinking about them? About him? Elijah knew he had done that for him, taken the Pirate’s interest away from him, offered his body instead of Elijah’s. He didn’t know if Jared or Orlando had noticed, Viggo took up the grand scheme of their minds currently. He was so frail it frightened them all. So it had happened now that Elijah took care of them, making sure they ate and slept. To have someone like Dominic take care of him had thrown Elijah.

Had he read Dominic completely wrong? Obviously there was a lot in his life that he didn’t tell them, but then, wasn’t that the same with them all? There were things, people, in Elijah’s life before that he never mentioned, and for good reason too. Jared didn’t talk of his masters before the Prince, and Orlando only vaguely mentioned life on the streets. Had Elijah been too obsessed with Dom’s hidden past because of a bad first impression?

Dom would probably be someone Elijah always watched. There was something about him, something big, that he hid remarkably well. But perhaps he could try a little harder to get along with him. For Orlando’s sake of course.

There was a clatter and Elijah looked up, startled. Viggo swayed at the doorway to the bedroom, causing Elijah to stand quickly, before the Prince caught a hold of the wall to steady himself.

“Elijah?”

His voice slurred dangerously, half asleep and pain ridden. If Elijah hadn’t already known that he was ill, he would now. Viggo blinked foggily, clearing his eyes. It took a few moments for the Prince to collect himself, shaking his head as if to clear it.

“Have you been out here all night?”

“Not all night,” Viggo winced at the sound of his voice, and Elijah spoke as softly as he could manage. “I was watching over Billy.”

“Billy?” Viggo scowled as he desperately searched his mind to find out why that name was familiar to him, then he caught sight of the sleeping boy. Smiling slightly he patted Elijah’s shoulder. “Good, good.” 

Elijah reached out to steady him as the slight movement almost rocked Viggo from his standing position. Elijah’s eyes widened in fear, what was happening? Headaches were one thing, this was something completely different.

“Has he woken?”

Elijah swallowed his fear, striving to speak in his normal, if hushed tone. He couldn’t panic the Prince, it was just a slight illness, all the stress was getting to him, it would pass. “Not yet my Prince. I don’t think he will be any more coherent than yesterday.”

Viggo nodded, “We’ll have to clear him of the drugs in his system. It could take a few days. Could you make sure he gets a cot? This could be painful for him.” 

“Of course.” Elijah couldn’t be sure, but Viggo’s skin felt hot. “I’ll make sure we all look after him.”

“You’re up earlier than I expected, dear Prince!”

Viggo straightened, letting go of the wall, a grim expression falling into place. His hand squeezed tightly on Elijah’s shoulder and the young man turned to the door.

The Pirate Captain looked remarkably like a cat with a canary, all puffed, proud and full of himself. He also wore a hat today, which he appeared to use as a prop, using his saber to push it back and reveal his eyes. He had a very satisfied smirk on his lips that made Elijah want to punch him. He gave a sultry wink to Elijah and the boy suppressed an obvious shudder.

“You missed out, I’m afraid Blue Eyes, but your young friend here was remarkably good company.” Dom stood silently beside him, head bowed so Elijah couldn’t see his face. “I couldn’t have paid for better service.”

The Pirate laughed at a joke no one else in the room got, smacking Dom on the rump and all but pushing him into the room. Elijah thought he saw a shudder run through the other boy’s frame.

“You’re home now, and I can get back to my bed and some much earned sleep,” the Pirate’s eyebrows waggled and his smile grew to a leer as he watched Dom’s ass as the boy walked into the room.

Elijah was grateful the Prince was digging his fingers into his shoulder, otherwise Elijah would have quiet happily slaughtered the other man.

“By the way, my Sweet, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Dominic, sir.”

Something changed in the Pirate’s expression. Elijah wasn’t quiet sure, but he looked the way Orlando did when he found the puzzle piece that was sitting right beneath his nose and pressed it into place.

“Well, young Dominic, should you, or your master require my vessel at any time, I’ll only be too happy to lend it. At a small price of course,” he leered again, catching up Dom’s hand, bowing over it and pressing a smacking kiss to it. Elijah clenched his fists, did the man never give it a rest? “We will look forward to our next meeting!”

We?

“Adieu!”

He swept out of the room as if he owned it, making Elijah seethe.

Dominic sagged before turning to them, his face unreadable. “I had not expected you awake, my Prince.”

The hand on Elijah’s shoulder suddenly slackened and, reacting instantly, Elijah caught the Prince as he stumbled and almost fell. Dominic was at his other side quickly, catching the Prince, just as startled as Elijah.

“Viggo!”

Orlando and Jared were there suddenly, apparently awoken by the Pirate. All four boys looked at each other helplessly.

“I’m a little tired,” Viggo managed in a strained voice.

Elijah plastered a smile on his face. “Then let's get you back to bed. There will be no work for you today.” He squashed the panic that rose in him. Be strong, his mind sang, don’t fall apart, they’ll all be looking to you. “Jared, can you get Sean or the Captain at a pinch, they might be able to get a hold of a healer at this time of the morning.”

Jared nodded, making sure that they had a hold of the Prince before dashing out the door. Orlando, Dom and Elijah stumbled under the weight of the Prince, carrying him between them back to the bed. They got him settled, then Elijah looked into Orlando’s eyes.

The other boy, Viggo’s first Kitten, looked frantic in his sudden panic. Elijah caught his fretting hands. “Calm down, breathe for me Orlando.” Orlando took a couple of gulping breaths, Elijah waited till his hands didn’t shake so much.

“He’ll be fine, everyone gets sick sometimes, right?” Orlando nodded. “Now stay here and look after him, Jared will be back shortly, I’m sure Sean will have heaps of questions.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have to look after Dom, everything will be fine, ok?”

Orlando nodded, biting his lip he stroked Viggo’s hair. He would watch over him.

Elijah shooed Dominic out of the room.

“I should clean up the courtyard, if we’re having company-“

“Dom. Bath. Now!” Elijah ordered. Dom appeared surprised for a moment before he grinned, following the orders.

“I didn’t know you cared...”

Elijah snorted, the bathing room was already hot, the early morning servants having expected the Prince to be up and bathing by now. Elijah ignored the thoughts of the Prince for the moment, one panicked kitten was enough for the time being.

“You reek! How many times did you have sex last night?”

Dom chuckled, shedding his clothing. Elijah watched carefully, looking for anything that he could add to the list of reasons he wanted to kill the Pirate Captain. Other than what looked to like teeth marks at his neck and finger shaped bruises at his hips, Dominic seemed fine as he slipped into the water, sighing in relaxed pleasure.

“Sort of lost count after the third time. The Captain had plenty of stamina.”

Elijah’s hands clenched, his vision blurring for a moment. It could have been him, underneath the Captain, used, thrown away like a doll.

“Hey.”

A pair of hands caught his, rubbing the stiffness out of them, interlacing their fingers together. Elijah blinked his eyes clear, looking down into the surprisingly worried grey eyes of Dominic.

“What happened to the Hell Cat I saw a second ago? What is it?”

Elijah swallowed, blinking. “Did he... hurt you?”

Dominic smiled a little ruefully. “He was a little harsh, but he didn’t do anything I didn’t want to begin with. He even offered me the chance to come back here, no questions asked.” He sobered quickly, “he was a little brash earlier, but I think it’s just the way he is, you know? It’s how he’s learned to act around nobility. He was rather kind to me on his ship.”

“He took you to his ship?”

“Yeah,” Dom smiled wistfully, “it’s been a while since I’ve been on a ship. But I understand now.”

“Understand?” this had to be the most surreal conversation Elijah had ever had, and it wasn’t what Elijah had expected at all, with Dom’s wet fingers clinging to his.

“I understand how you must have felt, when someone like me who wouldn’t know you from a grain of sand, called you a toy. I’m sorry.”

Elijah blinked, falling to his knees. “Thank you for what you did, I just couldn’t-“

“I know,” Dom smiled. “But it was fine, you probably would have liked him.”

“I doubt it,” Elijah snorted, “there was nothing about that man I could have liked.”

Dom laughed before sobering. “Did I hear aright? When we got here I thought Viggo said he wanted Billy clean?”

Elijah nodded, looking worried. “He does, but I don’t know, Dom, your Pirate friend seemed to think he was dangerous.”

“We can’t leave him like that, Elijah, if the Captain has seen the magic, he must have been drug free at one time. And if he really is that dangerous, we can always just put him back on them and let the Prince know when he’s better.”

Elijah bit his lip and nodded. Who knew, maybe by getting rid of the drugs the Druid would be in their debt. Or something. For now they’d stop the drugs.

“ELIJAH!”

Orlando came running into the room, there were helpless tears in his eyes. He was trembling.

“What’s wrong? I thought I told you to stay with Viggo?” Elijah stood, drying his hands on his pants.

“Elijah, he threw up-“

“It’s fine! Is Sean here yet? He just has a fever-“

“You’re not listening to me!” Orlando all but screamed. “He threw up blood Elijah! BLOOD! It’s everywhere and I can’t get him to stop!”


	58. Chapter 58

LVIII  
by Beryll

It hurt. It hurt like hell.

Not so much the bodily pain as the fact that Jared had no one to blame for it but himself.

'Always be prepared to serve a costumer!' That had been one the first lessons drilled into him right after he had been captured and put to work on the street. And his master had made sure to drive the point home by taking him dry, again and again, till he had learned to never forget to prepare himself.

The peace and quiet of the palace, the kindness of the Prince's boys, the treacherous feeling of safety had made him forget. It had made him feel as if he was more than a whore to be used. And now he had paid the price - fucked till he bled.

That was what hurt so much, Jared told himself. Just his own stupidity. Not the fact that he felt raped, he had endured so much worse without even flinching. He had let his guard down and this was what he got for it, this was what he deserved.

Still he somehow couldn't pick himself. He just couldn't uncurl from where he was still lying on the floor, pull up his pantaloons and get on with life. He felt as if something precious in his heart had been damaged. Felt the disgusted hatred in the voice of the man who had used him echo in his mind over and over again.

Slut. Whore. Bitch.

The Captain was right. He was all that. His mind had screamed for him to run. To run and hide from what he knew was coming. Still he had stood transfixed, unable to move. He had let it happen, had even invited it in the foolish hope that he wouldn't be hurt if he obeyed.

He didn't move when he heard footsteps. He was sure it would be the Captain, returning, ready to kick him for not having disappeared yet, but he just couldn't make himself move.

Only when he heard a soft gasp and then a voice that was so much softer and carried a foreign lilt that was alien as well as dear to Jared, did he realize it was not the Captain.

"Jared... by Thor, what happened to you?"

Moments later he was pulled up and wrapped in strong, protective arms, was crushed against another chest but this time with so much care, so much gentleness that he started crying all over again. 

If it had been anybody else Jared would have swallowed his tears, would have pretended he was fine, would have filed this away as another memory to bury. But Sean knew what it was like, Sean had been through this himself, Sean would understand, would know not to look too closely, not to ask. Sean was strong despite everything.

He didn't open his eyes when he was gently picked up and carried a short distance. He just clung to the solid body holding him as though it was his safe rock in a stormy sea. It was so easy to pretend he was strong when there was no one to hang on to. But now wave after wave of nausea rolled over him, making him realize how very numb he had become whoring.

It still hurt and he flinched when Sean gently pulled his pantaloons back up. His heart still hurt, still bled. But somehow it transformed to a good pain, safe in Sean's arms, free to feel the pain, to feel alive, to feel at all. Old wounds opened in his mind, memories he had tried to banish swamped his mind. He let them, allowed himself to cry over all of them, allowed himself to grieve over everything he had lost.

At last his tears ran dry, his heart-wrenching sobs subsiding to deep breathing as the pain slowly lessened. 

He was feeling light headed; his body still aching but his heart beating freely, strongly.

With gentle force he extracted himself from Sean's embrace and looked up at him, meeting the stormy green eyes - so full of care and worry - with a small smile.

"Thank you." he whispered, his voice hoarse from crying so much. He wrapped his own arms around the warrior, hugging him tightly. "Thank you so much."

Sean blinked at him in surprise, this was obviously not the reaction he had expected, but then he stroked Jared's tear stained cheek gently. "You're welcome, mouse." he answered just as softly.

Jared leaned his brow against Sean's broad chest for another long moment before drawing in another deep breath. A strange calm had spread inside him, and with it came the realization that he was not some numb thing to be used but that there was still life inside him, still a soul to feel the pain. 

Thinking back on what had happened just a few minutes ago, how he had stood mute and paralyzed, now seemed alien to him. He should have kicked the Captain in the shin and made a run for it, he realized. The Prince would have protected him. Hell - the kittens would have protected him!

Silently he vowed that it would not happen again.

Sean's voice broke him from his deep thoughts. "What happened, Jared? Who did this?" 

A dangerous edge had entered his voice and Jared knew that it would have to find a target, that Sean would not accept denial or lies. He knew that Sean and the Captain were friends. That was the only reason that made him hesitate. What if Sean didn't believe him? What would Sean do if he did believe it? After all he was a slave himself.

He didn't get the chance to devise some clever lie as Sean gently took his chin and tipped up his face so that he had to look into Sean's eyes.

"It was Karl." Sean stated, his voice flat, betraying no emotion. How he had guessed, Jared had no idea but his face must have shown that Sean had guessed correctly as Sean nodded slowly.

"Will you make it back to Viggo's quarters on your own?" Sean asked, his mind clearly intent on other matters. On the Captain, Jared feared.

"Sean, I... he..." Jared looked away, realizing there was no point in lying or trying to convince Sean to let the matter rest. "Be careful." he ended, saying the one thing that really was in his heart and on his mind.

Sean caressed his cheek gently and already Jared found himself leaning into the touch again, his body quickly forgetting what had been forced on it and seeking solace.

"I will be fine, sweet mouse." Sean said, getting up from the divan where he had set Jared down. "Go back to the Prince. I will find you later." Then he turned and left.

Jared watched him go with fear clenching his heart and a feeling of fierce gratitude making him feel giddy. Sean would fight for him, Sean would protect him, Sean would be there. No matter how often he was degraded, used, beaten, raped - there would always be Sean to seek sanctuary with afterwards. There was nothing he couldn't endure with that knowledge firmly embedded in his heart.

\---

Sean was furious. As he strode through the long palace corridors people made way for him - be they noble or slave. He didn't even notice them. The cold rage coiling in the pit of his stomach achieved what all the care and gentle healing had not done - his head held high, his shoulders squared, he didn't look like a meek slave anymore, he looked like a predator out for blood and that was exactly what he was.

Being angry was a state of mind he was quite familiar with. There had been enough reasons for anger in his life. The way his Prince was treated by his father, fights with members of Viggo's father's court, arguments, war even - Sean had not led a peaceful life.

But he couldn't remember ever having felt such an icy, seething rage as he felt now. That Jared had been hurt would have been a reason to simply take off the head of whoever was responsible. That KARL had done it hit him on a much deeper level.

He had learned to trust Karl. It had been hard, hard to trust anybody at all, harder to trust Karl who he had both hated and desired from the moment he first laid eyes on him, from the moment Karl had stolen that kiss from him right next to the slaver's block.

He had known that Karl was a man of passion, that he not always was in control of his actions. Still he had trusted him. Trusted him to the extent that he had cried in the other warrior's arms and slept in his bed. He had accepted Karl as his friend, his brother. Now he couldn't help but wonder if it could have been him, curled up bleeding on the floor.

He couldn't help but wonder if maybe he should have kept the kittens away from Karl, knowing that he could be dangerous. Especially after the strange reaction Karl had shown when he had first seen Jared. He had planned to corner the Captain about that but there had always been something more important to discuss. To think that he might have been able to prevent this if he had paid more attention made his blood run cold.

'Be careful', Jared had told him. Sean clenched his fists at the thought. Careful... he felt like ripping the Captain's head off. With his bare hands.

In front of the door to Karl's office Sean stopped. He had just walked there, assuming this would be where he would find the other man. The guard at the door looked at him strangely, almost shyly. It took Sean a moment to realize that he must be looking quite intimidating now. If he hadn't been so utterly furious it would have been elating.

"Is the Captain in?" he asked without preamble, his voice flat with suppressed rage.

The guardsman nodded. "Yes, sir." he answered, forgoing any notion of appropriate forms of address.

Sean pushed past him, opening the door and firmly closing it behind himself. What he had to discuss with the Captain was nobody else's business.

He found Karl at his desk, slumped forward, his face buried in his hands. He looked nearly as miserable as Jared had when Sean had found him and for a moment Sean felt pity tug at his heart. But the image of Jared curled up on the floor, bleeding, quickly killed that notion.

"We need to talk." he said coldly.

Karl roused from his stupor slowly, raising his head to look at Sean with such a haunted, terrified expression that, again, Sean could hardly suppress the urge to rush over to him and hug him as protectively as he had held Jared.

But then the expression disappeared from Karl's face as if washed off and a calm, indifferent mask slipped into place as he sat up straighter.

"Really? And what about?" the Captain asked just as coldly. 

Sean stepped closer to the desk with the menacing prowl of a predator. "You know bloody well what about!" he hissed, bracing his hands on the desk and leaning forward so that he was right in Karl's face. "How could you do that?"

"The boy?" Karl waved the matter off as if it was just an irritating fly, "Oh come on now, Sean, he's a whore. It's what whores are for."

Sean could hardly believe his ears. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be Karl. This WASN'T the Karl he knew. The urge to slap him hard was nearly overwhelming.

"You raped him!" Sean voice was rising in volume now. "I thought you of all people would know what that does to a man!"

Karl had the nerve to just raise an eyebrow. "But he's not a man, just a little slut. He liked it. Wanted it. Said so himself."

The red haze that had been threatening to drown Sean swept over him like a tidal wave. Liked it. Wanted it. It was too much like the words which had been whispered in his own ear when he was on his knees, bleeding, choking, begging for more so they would stop hurting him.

He moved faster than Karl could react. Faster than he could think.

His fist impacting with Karl's face felt unbelievably good and to see the other man propelled backwards, blood pouring from his nose, was pure bliss.

It took all of Sean's strength of will not to follow up on the punch, not to beat the living daylights out of Karl. Shaking with rage he stood in front of the desk, fists clenched tightly.

"You will not touch Jared again!" he hissed, his words falling into the silence of the room like icy shards. "And you will stay away from the other kittens or I swear I will tear you limb from limb!"

Then he turned and swept out of the room, unable to stand the other man's presence one second longer.

He didn't hear Karl‘s choked whisper, pleading: "Don't leave me..."


	59. Chapter 59

LIX  
By Mel

“OUT!”

Liv shook. Somewhere along the way her veil had come off, her hair was messy and ruffled. Her normally friendly dark eyes flashed with anger and frustration. Her robe lay in a forgotten heap in the corner of the room and the chamber fairly sweltered with the heat she had created. Sweat drenched her under clothes, and her skin was flushed from the sauna she had made. 

“All five of you are to leave right this second! There is no way I can even try to burn out this fever if you are all under my feet! Out, out, OUT.”

The boys looked at each other. They were all shirtless, the heat causing their skin to shine with sweat. They had been trying to help Liv, and though they‘d had good intentions, every time Viggo would moan they froze up. Really, they weren’t much help.

Sean sighed, he had spent the whole time trying to keep Orlando from collapsing. Of all the boys, Orlando was closest to Viggo and he was feeling this a lot more then the others. He was starting to lose whatever sanity he had left. Jared and Elijah were trying to keep him focused, but he kept breaking apart more and more, so Sean stepped in with his calm voice and gentle touch.

Sean too was in turmoil. It was easy to focus on the boys, to keep their current hysteria at a low level, but sometimes his hands shook. Sometimes his breath would catch. He couldn’t look at Viggo anymore, couldn’t watch him twist in agony as the fever burned through him. Couldn’t watch him fade away before his eyes.

“Come on kittens,” Sean watched their faces fall when Sean took Liv’s side. They shuffled out and Liv smiled tightly at Sean. She went straight back to Viggo’s side, packing heated bricks up against his body, trying to burn out the fever.

The courtyard was remarkably markedly cooler than the room, where the five boys had set up cots for themselves. It had been two days since Sean's talk with Karl. Two days and the man had left his mind completely. For two days he had slept with Elijah in his arms as the young boy had cried silently. Orlando’s cot was empty all the time, the other boy had been with Jared and had not kept his feelings silent.

Dominic didn’t sleep. He had a single candle through the night and sat beside their newest addition. Billy was going through the early stages of withdrawal. Dom tried to get him to sleep as much as possible, but when his body craved the drugs that he had become addicted to, the reaction was often violent. There had been a few occasions where Dom had had to call for help to keep the other boy from scratching his eyes out.

Between looking after the kittens, helping Dom with the new boy and the gut wrenching fear for Viggo, Sean was exhausted.

Jared and Elijah looked at each other before Elijah took Sean’s hand, and Jared took Orlando’s. “Come on, let‘s go to the gardens for a bit, we can have lunch out there.”

“But-“ Orlando began, looking towards the bedroom.

“We have to let Liv work Orlando, we’re no help to her at the moment.” Jared told him quietly. “Come on.”

“I’ll look after Billy.” Dom said.

The boys looked as though they wanted to protest, when Sean spoke up. “Thank you Dom, I think he’s only going to get worse shortly.” The grey eyed boy nodded, his face as unreadable as usual. He was very good at hiding what he thought, Sean mused. The other boys however, were not, and looked a little miffed that Sean had made the decision for them. Still, they allowed themselves to be herded out, with promises that they would bring Dom back something to eat.

Dominic worked silently, getting a little heated water from Liv’s store and dipping the cloth into it. He had gone days without sleep before, but he could feel it catching up to him [now]. The Prince was very ill, he could tell in the way Liv moved around frantically. She was doing all she could, but normal methods for breaking a fever were not working. Dominic, for the first time, felt the cold tendril of fear wrap around him.

The Prince was going to die. If he died, what would happen to them?

They would likely be sold. Dominic would quite possibly be beheaded as would have happened, if the Prince had not intervened. Orlando and Elijah would be separated and likely become whores to rich nobles. To people who wouldn’t understand them, who would use them and discard them. Jared would go back to work on the streets.

They would all die, Dom was sure of it.

He looked at Billy, whose eyes were vacant. The other man would go back onto the drugs that Dominic was trying so hard to break him from. For some reason, Dom wanted him to see the sky, the sun, before his mind would be clouded over once more and he was sold. Something inside him said it was very important. He just hoped Billy could pull through in time.

Billy was restless. He squirmed on the cot, every time the cloth touched him, he would move, shift away from it, as if it was burning him. Dom was relentless, he continued to follow his movements around the bed, trying to relieve the other boy’s discomfort. When he began to whimper Dom paused, watching him silently, waiting.

His hands clutched at his head, his whole body arching as he cried out, voice hoarse, his face scrunched in pain. Dom crawled quickly onto the bed, straddling the boy, holding him down. He watched the boy scream out as his body craved what he was being denied. He fought Dom blindly, struggling against the hands that held him down. The fits were getting longer, harsher and much more frequent.

It was almost as though there was an echo of what was happening in the bedroom. At least here Dom could help a little. Even if he really couldn’t do anything, even if he couldn’t stop the pain. He’d stopped sleeping, stopped eating. There was nothing he could do for Viggo.

Viggo would die.

He choked back the sob, it coming out in a short gasping hiccup. Tears stung his eyes, falling down onto Billy’s flesh. It was all hopeless. He was hopeless. He couldn’t even save the people he’d come to care for. Come to love. They would all die and there was nothing he could do.

Hands covered his. Dom’s head flew up and he was looking into blank amber eyes.

The Captain of the Caliph’s guard looked as though he had had as much sleep as Dom, which was none. They were haunted eyes, curiously blank. Dom had never thought of them as warm and lively, but there had always been some sort of spark in them. Now that spark had faded from being.

“Karl.” Liv came into the room, she was drying her hands, her veil back in place. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know.” Karl stood, Billy had calmed considerably. The fit had past. “How is he?”

Liv twitched, as if she wanted to rush the Captain from the room. “I am doing everything I can. But...”

There was a quiet pause, the Captain looked blankly at her. For a moment Dom thought he’d press for more information, or insist on being allowed to stay. Instead he nodded slowly.

“Thank you.” He turned and left as quietly as he had come.

Liv sighed, visibly relaxing, before bustling around for a moment, checking out Billy, and then ducking back into Viggo’s room.

Dom carefully got off Billy, checking to see if he’d done any damage to the other boy’s wrists before taking his seat again. Something had happened. He had known it when Orlando had asked to see Karl. Sean’s eyes had grown cold and Jared had flinched. Sean told them it probably wasn’t a good idea, and that they should stay with Viggo. Orlando had, of course, taken it at face value. Dom knew that Elijah had been surprised, but there had been no time to ask with Viggo getting sicker.

They had all let it slide. There had been no time for anything else. They would be told eventually, for now they couldn’t focus on anything but their Prince. Sean would tell them eventually.

Not that Dom really cared, he wiped down Billy’s body with gentle movements. Karl had made it clear that he loathed to be around both Jared and himself. It might be better if he stayed away from them. It’d be a pity for Orlando, who adored the man, but Orlando had many other things on his mind right now. Between Viggo and the new boy, Orlando was running himself into the ground.

Dom wiped Billy’s brow as his face scrunched up in pain again. It was all happening so fast. Too fast for Dom to stop it. Billy’s voice trembled as the pain lanced through him, clawing at his body. Karl was long forgotten as Dom fought to keep the other boy’s hands away from hurting his own flesh.

When the others returned they found Dom asleep, half on top of Billy’s body, the other boy’s hand threaded gently in Dom’s hair.


	60. Chapter 60

LX  
by Beryll

Viggo was dying. They had all denied it as long as they possibly could. Had tried to shield Orlando from the fact, had told him pretty lies, but Orlando had known right from the start. When he had held the Prince's body in his arms, wracked with violent shudders, when Viggo had first thrown up blood, when he had looked at Orlando with clear eyes for the last time, when Orlando had seen the desperate pain in those eyes and the ugly knowledge that he was dying - Orlando had known as well.

Viggo was dying and there was nothing they could do about it.

After another hellish night Liv had finally packed up all her healing tools and left, to return only a few minutes later draped in black, with a black veils hiding her face. Seeing the dark circles under her sad eyes, and her shoulders slumping in defeat, Orlando had felt as though he should reassure her, as though he should say something cheerful. 

But there was no cheer in his heart anymore.

Sweet incense was now burning in the Prince's bedchamber to drown out the stench of sickness. It was muddling Orlando's senses and he was beginning to see things move in the tendrils of the smoke rising from the brass fire bowls.

Spirits seemed to be hovering in the smoke, some with cruel laughter, some screaming and howling for the Prince. Orlando wanted to get up from where he was kneeling in a shadowed corner, wanted to banish these spirits who were already preying on Viggo's soul. 

He wasn't even supposed to be here. Like all the other kittens he had been told to disappear to one of the gardens while the Caliph came to say goodbye to his son.

At last the truth about the Prince's health had reached the Caliph's ear. Orlando could only imagine what this noble man must be going through now. Losing the son he had just gained so soon. Losing him after they had parted on such a bitter note. 

Still Orlando couldn't bring himself to be parted from Viggo. He had to stay close. Had to be there when... when it happened. It wouldn't be long now.

The figure on the bed looked still. In the murky half light of the bedchamber he could have been dead already. The shallow rise and fall of his chest could just as well be a trick of the wafting smoke. It took all of Orlando's willpower to stay hidden in his corner. The fever was consuming the Prince, his body having long given up the fight against it. Only a miracle would save the Prince now.

Orlando leaned further back into the shadows when he heard muffled voices from the main chamber, recognizing first the Caliph's voice and then Liv answering. Then there were soft footfalls, the heavy curtain separating the main chamber from the bedroom was lifted and the imposing figure of the Caliph ducked inside, followed by Liv who was flanked on both sides by the Caliph’s small children, clinging to her skirts.

Viggo's siblings, Orlando thought with tears pricking his eyes. The children Viggo had accepted the title of Prince for, to protect them by putting himself into harm's way. Now they were not only loosing a wonderful older brother they had barely had a chance to get to know, they were also back in the spotlight. Surely sooner or later the assassination attempts would start again. They would probably succeed at some point.

Orlando watched in silence as the Caliph made his way over to the bed where his son lay. Watched how he sat on the edge of the bed, keeping his head high, exuding an air of confidence. Didn't he see that Viggo was dying?

The Caliph gestured his children closer and they came to his side, silent, their faces worried and afraid, each grabbing one of their father’s hands and peering at the pale figure on the bed. The girl's eyes swam with tears as she reached out with a tiny hand and caressed Viggo's hand as if she hoped he would wake up and smile at her from the mere touch.

"Your brother is very ill, Kalia," the Caliph explained softly, stroking the girl's hair, "we hope he will be better soon but you must be patient."

The girl looked up at her father, tears now spilling over. "Will he die, daddy?" she asked.

"No, love," the Caliph's voice was thick with emotion now and Orlando realized that he was just keeping up the appearance of confidence so as not to scare his little ones, "give him a few days and he will be back with you at the nursery, tickling you."

The girl looked doubtful and buried her tiny, tear streaked face in her father's robes, muffling her crying. The boy draped one arm around her while his small face stayed serious and calm, mimicking his father's.

For a few minutes they all remained motionless, then the Caliph gestured to Liv, who had been hovering behind them unobtrusively. Gently she disentangled the girl from the Caliph and led both of the children out of the room, softly telling them that their brother needed to rest now.

Orlando did not miss the boy looking back over his shoulder at the still figure on the bed, his eyes haunted now. He was trying to be strong but he really was just as scared as his sister. Orlando felt the urge to hug the child, to tell him that everything would be all right but at the same time silent tears were running down his own face. Nothing would ever be all right again.

When the children were out of the room Orlando watched the Caliph's confident facade crack and break apart. His heart felt as though it would tear as the ruler of Aqaba sank down onto his knees next to the bed, taking Viggo's limp hand and hiding his face in his other hand, his head bowed.

His words were no more than a whisper but in the deathly silence of the room they were loud enough for Orlando to hear.

"Forgive me, my son, forgive me my pride and my stupid anger. How could I look the other way while you were dying? How could I be so arrogant and cruel as to leave you all alone? What kind of man am I to not have noticed your pain?"

Nothing but silence answered him. A long time the Caliph remained motionless in his submissive posture and after a while Orlando realized that he was praying.

There really was nothing else to be done for the Prince now. His fate was in the hands of Allah.

In his thoughts, Orlando joined the Caliph in prayer, begging Allah with all the crushing pain in his heart to spare the Prince. Offering his own life in exchange for Viggo's. Offering anything and everything to see the man he loved open his eyes again. To see his smile, to see fury in his eyes again, to see him live.

He was so lost in his own praying that he missed the moment when the Caliph left. The sound of the curtains falling back into place behind him were what brought him back to the ugly reality of his beloved still lying on his bed, motionless, still dying.

Slowly Orlando got up from his hidden corner and made his way over to the bed, kneeling in the place that the Caliph had just vacated. He looked down at Viggo, at his pallor, at the deep lines that his sickness had etched into his face, there was no strength left in the man who had saved Orlando that fateful day in the market. He did not shine with pride and energy anymore. He looked like an empty shell, as if his soul was already leaving him, only tethered to his body by a fine line.

Still Orlando loved him more than he ever had before. His heart seemed to break a thousand times over, bleeding freely.

Where before the hunger for life and passion had bound them together, now the emptiness seemed to flow into Orlando, slowly numbing him to everything but the pain of parting from his beloved. It simply couldn't happen. There was no way Orlando could live with this pain.

"Don't go..." he whispered, taking Viggo's hand, kissing it lightly, "don't leave me behind. You promised you would take care of me, you promised... you promised..."

Again tears ran down Orlando's face. Viggo couldn't hear him. Viggo couldn't stay with him. Allah was calling his soul away.

There was only one way to fulfil his vow to serve his Prince no matter where or how.

"I will come with you," he told the silent figure solemnly, "I will serve you, in this life or the next, I don't care as long as I am with you."

It would not be hard to find a knife, to slash open his wrists, to join his Prince in death. Everybody would understand. What higher devotion could anybody ask of a slave than loyalty even beyond death? Allah would welcome him at his Prince's side.

"I love you," Orlando whispered, "I love you so."


	61. Chapter 61

Part LXI  
By Mel

There was nothing to say anymore. They had tried to tell each other lies in hopeful voices, but that had long since been given up on. There was nothing more they could do to convince themselves that everything would be all right, that any second now they’d wake up and laugh at their absurd little nightmare. That they’d joke and tease, they’d smile and laugh. That it wouldn’t feel as if the world had swallowed them, that Allah had turned his back on them all. 

The Prince was going to die.

A single candle burned on a tall holder behind his bed, above his head. Lighting the way to Allah’s kingdom. So he wouldn’t lose his way when he left the earthly plane, when his sick body abandoned his spirit and he left them all.

Elijah had covered his ears long ago. It was almost as though he could forget that this was happening. As though, if he closed his eyes, if he couldn’t hear anything, then he wasn’t there. Like when he had hidden from his nannies as a child. This way he couldn’t hear the rattle of Viggo’s slow breaths as it sounded as though his chest was caving in on his great heart.

Because this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Allah wasn’t this cruel. Not when he’d finally opened up. When Viggo had become such a part of his life that imagining him gone was an impossibility. When he felt as though he could let Viggo love him as the man had wanted to since those first, harsh, days.

So if he just pretended, pretended he couldn’t hear Orlando shrieking, or Dom’s attempts at broken soothing as he himself choked back sobs. Pretend he couldn’t see Jared rocking, his knees drawn to his chest, eyes blankly watching the Prince. Pretend that Sean was trembling as he held him because he loved him, not because he was about to loose his best friend. Because If he pretended in his mind, then he wouldn’t be the small boy sobbing in reality. He wouldn’t be buried as deeply as he could be in Sean’s arms. That he wasn’t the one screaming silently into Sean’s chest. That was some other boy, a boy who didn’t really exist. A boy who’s life was falling apart.

Orlando had been screaming for a while now. Dom couldn’t be really sure how long, he was too busy trying to hold him, too busy trying to stop him from climbing onto the Prince’s bed and killing him faster. Dom knew, if he let go, Orlando would try to wake him up. He’d shake him, claw at him, hit him. He wouldn’t really understand that he’d just kill him faster.

Dom understood. He wanted to scream, wanted to fight. The terrified void that was eating away at his soul was consuming him. He had no doubt that soon he’d be fighting, that he’d be trying to make them come back, the feelings that he was losing. The life that would soon end would be worth it. 

He’d scream and claw, he’d fight it. He’d fight the emptiness with everything he was. Dom would die for it - but it wouldn’t stop the card fate had dealt them.

Jared’s mind was blank. He wasn’t sure where he was, or what was happening. If he thought about it, dug through the piles of memories that were stacked before him, he knew he would find out - but stack was so high, to shift through them would take such a long time. He got the feeling whatever was happening, he didn’t want to know. It was something he wanted to forget. So he carefully turned the memories over in his mind until he could see nothing at all, and placed them gently in a trunk. It would take time to lock them all away he thought, and some memories screamed to be turned over, to be remembered. Jared ignored them, placing them all in the trunk, watching the pile dwindle away slowly.

Whatever was happening, it would be easier to forget.

Sean shook. One arm was wrapped around Elijah, rocking the boy slowly. The other hand held Viggo’s. He had watched one day in their youth, unable to do anything, when Viggo had tried to scale a cliff to save a puppy on a ledge. Viggo had always done it, saved one animal or another, defended the weak and helpless. Sean had been so used to it he hadn’t thought to stop the younger boy.

When Viggo's foot slipped about half way up Sean could only watch him fall. Watch the boy he loved die. Sean’s heart had stopped.

Viggo’s leg had been broken, but he was all smiles in a few days. Sean had sworn he would never let Viggo go off on his own again. That he would never be away from his side. So he wouldn’t have to watch him die again. Sean had followed him blindly into the desert, had suffered through it all to find Viggo’s smile at the end.

Viggo was going somewhere Sean couldn’t follow. Where he couldn’t go. Sean didn’t cry. He couldn’t, Viggo was going to wake up and smile, like he always did. They wouldn’t be apart again. Viggo couldn’t die. Because Sean wouldn’t survive if he did.

Karl stood at the doorway to the courtyard. His feet hovered at the edge. He could hear Orlando’s screams but he couldn’t go in. His mind howled, it shook in its cage, demanded to be allowed free, to protect his boy, to protect Orlando as he always had. His body trembled until his legs gave way beneath him. He couldn’t move, Orlando deserved better than his filth, than his worthlessness. He had failed the Prince again, and now he had failed Orlando too. Karl covered his face with his hands, lost. What had he done?

Viggo was dying. Orlando thrashed, fighting. He wasn’t allowed to die. He couldn’t.  
How DARE he leave him? How DARE he! He screamed, fighting it, Viggo had to fight to. He was stronger than this, stronger than them all. Orlando wouldn’t let him die. It was as simple as that, he just wasn’t allowed to die.

Orlando loved him, so he couldn’t go, couldn’t leave him here by himself. Orlando would go with him, he couldn’t be alone without him. It could not be happening. He struggled to be free and be allowed to go to Viggo. He had to.

“Let me go!” They were the first clear words in sometime, whoever held him let him go. Orlando would never be sure if it had been in surprise, or because of the haunted sound his words made. Orlando stumbled, heaved his body to the bed. To his beloved. Viggo. He fell to his knees, eyes clouded, darkening, his breathing shallow.

When did everything fade away?

Where had it all gone? The fight? The fury?

He could not even save the man he loved. Who he would die for. Orlando caught Viggo’s hand, held it, willed him back. Willed him to open his eyes. There was a sharp intake of breath and Orlando stared, hopeful, he was all right, everything would be fine.

Viggo's chest gave a final, heaving rattle and all sound ceased. 

Orlando howled.


	62. Chapter 62

Part LXII  
by Beryll

"You believe that a curse is much easier woven then dispelled. This is true in one way as a curse will always hold part of the weaver's heart. His hatred, his pain, his malice will be bound into a curse, strengthening its weave. So to dispel it you will have to pour just as much of yourself into your unweaving. Your heart will have to match the dark in the weaver's heart with light. You will have to put all your believe into unweaving a curse or you will fail."

"Yes, master."

"However - there is one exception. That is if the curse was woven without hatred or malice. This will often be the case if it was made by a witch who merely produced it, mechanically, without much attention. Such a curse is easily dispelled as it holds only enough power to achieve its goal but none to defend itself. As a druid, you are charged with furthering the well-being of those in your care. If you come across a curse you should at the very least investigate it. If it is a weak curse such I described it is your duty to unmake it. Do you understand, William?"

"Yes, master."

"Do you understand, William?!"

"Yes, master?" 

"Then why do you rest and laze here when there is work to be done?" 

-

The voice of Billy's master slowly faded from his clouded mind. He found himself floating in a blue haze, he was not sure where he was or what had happened to him but he assumed it was some kind of test. His master had put him in trances before to enable him to speak with spirits or find truths.

Even though he appeared to float like a feather on a breeze his limbs seemed impossibly heavy. Even opening his eyes was an effort and when he finally managed it nothing much changed, his vision was still clouded by the oppressive bluish haze, choking him, trying to drown out his senses.

'Work to be done...', his master's words echoed in his mind.

Then he noticed it. The foul stench assaulting his sense the burning sensation in his eyes. Now, paying closer attention, he noticed glyphs swimming in the haze, twirling and dancing, twisting in on themselves, almost too painful for the eye to observe.

With a pain-filled groan Billy forced himself to his feet. The duty of a druid was to investigate, no matter how bad he felt. He would not fail this test.

With his senses he reached out, feeling the weave of the curse, tasting it on his tongue, listening to its cadence. Intricate, beautiful, masterful - but void. There was no emotion whatsoever in the curse's make-up. Empty, its tendrils lay before Billy, drawing him to its centre.

Taking careful steps, so as not to trip over any traps that might lie hidden in the mists Billy followed the pull of his instincts. Each single step shot a spear of pain through his guts and he briefly wondered why his master had to make this so hard for him. Obviously it was not merely a test of his skills but a test of his dedication too.

Slowly he made his way closer to the whirling nest of glyphs that coiled around the curse's victim.

Then he realized what the real test was. The curse was almost complete, it was a killing spell, not merely some simple bad luck charm, and already the soul was tearing lose from the body it had inhabited, already Billy saw it hovering above the body like a shred of silver mist in the oppressive blue of the curse, twisting and agonized, trying in vain to free itself.

Immediately Billy's training kicked in, the urgency of the situation overruling his own pain. His hands moved as he tore at the curse's weave with brute force. No time for finesse or gentleness now. Harshly he broke the chains of glyphs binding the body, ripped them off and destroyed the glyphs themselves for good measure.

With one last shriek the weave fractured, now unravelling on itself, leaving behind it the confused silver mist of a soul caught in between. Billy wouldn't have known how to aid it as his training had not yet progressed that far, but to his immense relief the soul seemed to be strong enough to cope on its own as it sank back into the body which was now becoming visible through the receding haze. With deep satisfaction Billy watched as it seeped into the body, taking up residence again. His satisfaction increased as the chest of the man he could now discern lying on a low bed rose, with a deep, powerful breath pumping air back into starving lungs.

What confused him was that the room didn't then fade from his vision as it normally did when he had completed one of his master's tests. Instead it seemed to grow more solid with each passing second, the bluish haze was now barely visible. He could even see other people in the room, all of them around the bed and staring at him wide-eyed and unbelieving.

Then the man on the bed began coughing violently as his body shook off the last residue of the curse, returning to its natural state of being. Immediately everybody's attention returned to him, all of them flooding the room with intense feelings of joy, overwhelming Billy's senses. He shut down his second sight as quickly as he was able. 

And then he gasped in pain and crumpled to his knees as he realized that the pain which had been dully throbbing through his body the entire time was not an illusion but very real and was tearing through him - like claws ripping him open.

With the pain came the memories. His village burning, screams, fighting, death. So much death, so many of his people dying. Then pain as someone hit him over the head. 

Then there was the confusion of waking up in unfamiliar surroundings, of seeing a man with a large brimmed hat and moustache peering down at him curiously, touching him in places which were forbidden. The strength of panic, mixed with rage, lancing through him as he called on the gods to avenge his people, as he called down fire and lightning in his despair, completely ignoring his inability to control such powers.

The last thing he remembered was his world turning bloody red - and then the darkness.

This was no test, this was reality. He was here, in this room, hurt, alone, helpless in his pain. 

He hugged himself, trying to keep the pain inside, trying to protect himself from whatever they were going to do to him.

When arms suddenly wrapped around him he tried to shrink in on himself, tried to make himself even smaller. But the arms didn't hurt him, didn't threaten him.

"You saved him!" 

A voice so exuberant with joy and boundless gratitude that Billy couldn't doubt the good intentions of its owner. Looking up he met a pair of chocolate eyes full of happy tears.

Then there were more arms wrapping around him, each and every person in that room obviously bent on somehow expressing their happiness, their deep gratitude to him.

"Thank you!"

"May Allah bless you!"

"He's alive!"

"Thank you!"

Their joy swept over Billy like a tidal wave, washing away all of the fear and leaving behind only confusion and the lingering pain.

The tumultuous show of thankfulness was interrupted by a dry but amused voice from the bed.

"Could someone explain to me why you are all trying to squeeze that poor boy to death and why my mouth tastes as though a rat has died in it?"


	63. Chapter 63

Part LXIII  
By Mel

When Viggo had opened his eyes he’d been surprised. He never let his room get this dark during the day. It was day, he could tell, though only the light of a single candle shone in the room. Years of hunting and fighting had taught him the difference between day and night by simple feel. He also knew he’d been sleeping a lot recently, but Orlando had always been with him. Now though the bed was curiously empty.

Though the bed was empty, the room was not. It was alive with more sound than he had heard in there for a long time. It was happy, relieved. The sort of relief that made you feel as though you might just cry from knowing it was all over. Everyone was there. Well, almost everyone. The Kittens were all there, and Sean. The new boy was there as well. 

He tried to work out what they were all doing in a dark room in the middle of the day. He felt as though he had woken from a dream where he was falling. The kind of dream you always wake up from before you hit the bottom. But it felt as though he’d been very, very close to impact. He wondered what would have happened if he had died in that dream.

Shaking his head Viggo felt a little light headed, a little queasy, but otherwise he felt fine. He wasn’t even tired anymore. The Prince couldn’t help but smile as the Kittens appeared to be trying to pile on top of Billy. He watched them for a moment, as Dom clung half to Billy and Elijah. Watched how Jared was curled around all of them, his awe on his face. Watched how one of Sean’s hands was threaded into Jared’s hair, his forehead pressed to that of their newest addition, as if he was thanking him for something.

Viggo got the feeling he had slept through something important.

"Could someone explain to me why you are all trying to squeeze that poor boy to death and why my mouth tastes as though a rat has died in it?"

The moment the words left his lips the focus of attention in the room returned to him. Viggo barely had a moment to brace himself before Orlando disentangled himself from the pile and propelled his body at him. He was half way towards reprimanding the boy when there was a choked gasping sob in his ear.

“Oh Viggo, Viggo, Viggo.”

Orlando clung to him with all his might, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. The boy trembled so violently that the only thing Viggo could do was hold him. The rest of the Kittens were standing, swarming around him anxiously, waiting for their chance to hug him. Sean stood behind them, a beautiful smile on his lips.

Carefully Viggo pulled back from Orlando, looking at the young man’s hopeful face. He wiped the tear tracks from his cheeks, kissing him gently, reassuring him. The bright smile that bloomed across Orlando’s face was worth it.

“What happened, love?” he asked gently, dismayed when Orlando's eyes brimmed with fresh tears.

“You were going to die.”

That was not what Viggo had been expecting. He blinked, there was no lie in Orlando’s eyes, he didn’t think the boy was capable of lying. Dying?

“You’ve been riddled with fever for three days,” Orlando stroked his face, as if trying to convince himself that Viggo was really there. “Liv couldn’t break it. You...” Orlando took a shaky breath, “you stopped breathing for a moment. You were going to leave us all.”

Viggo held the boy’s hands, looking around at the sad, yet relieved, faces around him. It was true, he had almost died. He opened his arms, letting the other boys crawl onto the bed. There was no hesitation, even Dominic and Jared came straight into his arms. Viggo held them tight. To think illness would have forced him to leave this he thought as he closed his eyes, burying his face in Elijah’s sweet hair.

“Fever?”

Billy’s soft timbre cut through the gentle silence in the bedroom. Viggo got his first real look at the boy who was clearly now free from the drugs he had been given. He was slight and small, possibly only a little taller than Elijah, with tousled strawberry blond hair. He still wore the green leggings he’d been wearing when the captain had brought him, but the shirt was gone. His green eyes, Viggo was delighted to see, were wide and awake, taking in his surroundings.

“But it was a curse I broke, not a fever.” 

The whole room froze.

Billy looked distinctly uncomfortable, shifting under their gaze.

“Are you sure?” Sean managed from beside the boy.

Billy appeared thoughtful before nodding firmly. “If it had been a natural fever I wouldn’t have been much help. My, uh, healing skills leave much to be desired.” 

There was a small lopsided grin, Viggo got the feeling that Billy had heard the comment often. 

“The fever could have been an affect brought on by the curse, I suppose, I did not get much time to study it before I unravelled it.” The way they all looked at him made him uncomfortable. “Was I not supposed to?”

“No,” Viggo smiled, the boy returned it. 

At least Billy didn’t appear nearly as shy as Jared. The twinkle in his eyes looked like something to keep an eye on though. 

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“You have just saved a much loved Prince,” Sean whispered in the boy’s ear, chuckling when the boy jumped in surprise, “there are many people who will be in your debt.” Sean paused, smiling as Billy’s ears went pink. It was adorable. “Would you be able to tell me who cast the curse?”

Billy shook his head.

"Only if they cast a similar curse in front of me. The styles would have to be an almost perfect match.” The boy sighed. “Back at home I knew almost every Druid’s and witch's magical signatures. Here I know nothing.”

Sean wrapped an arm around Billy’s shoulder, smiling gently. “Then you have ended up in the right place, my young friend, the Prince will ask nothing more from you than yourself. You could not ask for a better place to be that isn't home.”

Billy looked up at the tall blonde man who was watching the boys on the bed with a fond smile. Billy could tell the man spoke from personal experience. He turned to watch those who would likely become the new people in his life. He knew things could be a lot worse, and perhaps, with the help of a prince who was indebted to him, he could learn what had become of his home.

Karl stared at the bedroom archway, relief coursing through him as he could hear Orlando’s laughter, followed by Viggo’s rich, healthy, voice.

Allah be praised, the child sorcerer had saved the life of their Prince.

Karl pressed his forehead to the stones. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens before standing and moving slowly away to spread the news.


	64. Chapter 64

LXIV  
by Beryll

"You didn't finish your tea, master."

It could have been a simple statement but combined with the pained, worried and deeply reproachful expression on Orlando's face it could just as well have been a direct order delivered by Prince Viggo's stern mother.

Sean watched with deep amusement as his lord picked up the teacup again and drained the vile brew which Liv insisted was necessary to drive the last traces of illness from his body. She - like everybody else - had been in tears with relief when she had heard that Viggo had woken up. She hadn't doubted Billy's explanation that the Prince had been cursed with the illness that had nearly killed him, but she had also ordered the Prince to stay in bed till his body had fully recovered.

Viggo had tried to convince his well meaning servants that he was all right. Apart from Sean nobody had believed him and Sean hadn't seen any reason to aid his lord in this matter. He was driving himself too hard anyway. To be confined to the bed and taken care of for a few days would invigorate him and help him gain strength to face whatever attack on him would be next.

It also gave the kittens the time they needed to prepare the Prince's new quarters. With his harem grown to five boys now his bed was definitely too small to accommodate all of them and the few rooms which had originally been assigned to Viggo were starting to feel cramped now.

So the Caliph - immensely grateful that Viggo had survived - had chosen a new suite of rooms for his son where he and his household would have the space they needed. Elijah was overseeing the redecoration of the rooms, aided by Dominic and Jared, while Orlando was taking care of the Prince and Billy was still recovering himself.

The young man was an amazing person. Sean hadn't really talked to Billy yet as the boy had spent most of the time asleep, but clearly Viggo had managed to pick up another rather exotic pet without even trying. In the few hours that the young druid had been awake, had already made a tour of the Prince's new quarters and 'warded' them. Elijah said this had mainly consisted of Billy drawing small glyphs on each doorway and window frame but he had sounded deeply impressed. 

What impressed Sean was how smoothly the boy seemed to accept this new place and life. He could only guess at what Billy must have lost but it surely hadn't been less than what Sean had lost, but Billy took it all in his stride. Still Sean had promised himself that he would keep an eye on the boy so that he would be there to lend a shoulder to lean on, should he be needed. Just like he did with all the kittens it seemed.

Prince Viggo handed the emptied cup back to Orlando and Sean grinned silently at both the fatherly approval on Orlando's face and the grimace of his lord. Watching these two together would have been a balm to anybody's soul. 

As Orlando picked up the tray that held the rest of the Prince's lunch and left the room, Viggo's attention shifted to Sean who was standing close to the doorway, keeping a silent vigil over his lord.

"You know, if they put another curse on me you won't be able to catch it just because you remain by my side." the Prince commented, his voice clearly showing how much he appreciated the fact that Sean was there.

Sean answered with a silent smile which was immediately mirrored on Viggo's face

"It is good to see you smile again." Viggo said softly. Then he continued in a more assertive tone: "But shouldn't you return to Karl? He must be missing you by now, you haven't gone back to his quarters since I woke up..." 

A frown suddenly creased his brow and Sean knew that his lord had finally caught up on the fact that Karl was the only one who had not visited his bedside since he had woken up.

"Where is he anyway?" Viggo consequentially asked, his keen grey eyes searching Sean's face for clues that Sean couldn't hide. The anger about what Karl had done was still too raw.

For a long moment Sean fought with himself. Sooner or later his lord would learn what had happened. There was a good chance that Viggo would try to get up to personally disembowel the Captain of the Guard. If there was one thing Sean and Viggo agreed on it was the way they protected those under their care. And that very much included Jared. 

"Sean?" Viggo's stern voice forced him from his thoughts, "What is going on?"

With a soft sigh Sean left his post by the door and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge. There was really no way to soften what he was going to tell his lord so he might just as well tell him straight.

"Karl raped Jared." Sean said bluntly.

Viggo just stared at him blankly as if he had just grown a second head. At least that reaction was better than him grabbing his sword and screaming bloody murder, Sean thought with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

"I found Jared in Karl's quarters, curled up on the floor, crying, bloodied," he explained, using the chance that his lord's stunned silence offered, "there was no mistaking what had happened. And when I confronted Karl about it..." The memory made Sean's blood run hot with rage again. "He didn't deny it. He... he said Jared's just a worthless whore... is there to be used..."

"Karl?" Viggo whispered, he had paled visibly while Sean had spoken. "He... no..."

Sean ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't understand it," he said softly, "how can he have the arrogance to draw the line between worthy warrior and worthless whore? How can he treat me like a brother and rape a defenseless boy?"

"I... will..." Viggo growled, his voice shaking with rage, his fists balled so tightly that his knuckles showed white.

Gently Sean laid his hand over one of his lord's fists. "You will do nothing. Jared has recovered. And I have made sure Karl will not touch any of your kittens ever again. He is banned from your quarters and their presence. What more would you do?"

"Kill him!" Viggo hissed, his grey eyes ablaze with the stormy rage Sean knew all too well.

"And what would that accomplish? The harm has been done, my lord. Jared will not thank you for defending his honor. All he wishes for is his safety. If you want to do something good for him, assure him that he will not be returned to the street when he has taught the kittens all he can. You are the only one he will believe it from."

"What? He thinks I will take him back to that... place?" the Prince asked incredulously.

Sean smiled, relieved that he had managed to divert his lord's attention. "Of course he does. Why should he believe otherwise?"

"I would never..."

"So we have told him, my lord."

'Viggo sank into an unhappy silence, but he also relaxed slowly, his initial rage doused enough for reason to kick in. Sean knew how much it pained his old friend to realize that he couldn't protect everybody however hard he tried.

"To think that I left Orlando with him..." he said finally, his voice now filled more with fear than anger Then Viggo looked at Sean. "To think that I left you with him..."

Sean shrugged "That seems to be different. I don't understand him. And to be truthful, I don't WANT to understand him. I don't want to see too far into this abyss."

Viggo nodded slowly. "So is that why you have stayed here? Because you don't want to face him?"

Sean shook his head. "No, my lord. I stayed to guard you as is my duty. And to take care of the kittens. They needed someone to cling to."

"Still, I will not have you go back." Viggo said in a tone of voice that allowed no argument. "Public opinion be damned, I will not have you stay at his mercy or at anybody else's." He sat up straighter, taking Sean's hand. "You are a slave no longer." he said firmly. "I free you."

The words rang in Sean's head. He had fought so hard against his captors, against being a slave, but now the words were little more than a nice addition to the fact that he was back by his lord's side. That he was where he belonged. Still he bowed his head as was appropriate. 

"Thank you, my lord."

"I could have died," Viggo added softly, "I could have died and you could have been owned by anybody. How could I overlook this? How could I be so careless? I will draw up documents that free you and that also give you possession of the kittens should anything happen to me. I want them safe. I want all of you safe."


	65. Chapter 65

Part LIV  
By Mel

Elijah smiled. Viggo was trying to bat both Orlando’s and Jared’s hands from his body with no success. Both were quite insistent that the older man allowed them to guide him, whether he wanted them to or not. It had been three days since his recovery and Liv had finally, if a little unwillingly, agreed that it was all right for them to move both Viggo and Billy to the new rooms.

The two boys had thought it best to have a litter to move Viggo but, between Viggo’s thunderous glare and Sean’s amused reassurances, they had been swayed from the idea. Instead they had settled on the compromise to hold their lord up. Viggo was, of course, not consulted on this matter.

“You may as well let them,” Elijah told him mildly as, with Viggo’s struggling, it took five minutes to just move him out the door.

“You too, Elijah?” Viggo looked aghast at the idea of Elijah joining forces with his two keepers.

Elijah chuckled. “Of course not, my Lord, I just wish to reach our new rooms long before dark and fighting them doesn’t seem to be helping matters.” Elijah smiled slyly. “Besides, what if keeping you out here in the open made you sick again?”

Though Orlando and Jared knew Elijah was just teasing, they couldn’t stop the sudden look of terror that filled their faces.

Viggo groaned, stopping his frustrated movements and glaring at the youngest of the boys. “That was very mean.”

“I know, but at least you’re not struggling anymore,” he smiled as he moved in front of them, leading the way, Billy following along behind, looking just as amused. “Come on then.”

Elijah was tired, but it was a tired he hadn’t been in a long time. He had been working hard while Viggo and Billy had both been getting better. He had even managed to rope Dom and Jared into helping him for the most part, though Dom had, of course, complained the whole time. Elijah knew he didn’t mean it half the time, Dom just liked to complain. There was no real heat in the words, no real drive to change what was going on, it was just a way to deal with his own boredom. The fight that ensued when Jared called him a girl had been worth listening to Dom complain for half an hour. 

It felt as though they were all finally starting to get along, though it had definitely taken a long time to do so. There were still things going on, such as not seeing Karl, but they worked around it. What they were all looking forward to was showing the Prince their new rooms. Sean hadn’t seen them either, which was also exciting, but he had pleaded to meet them later, the Caliph had wanted a short audience with him now that the Prince appeared to be fully on the mend.

The rooms weren’t that far away but Jared and Orlando, accompanied by Viggo’s low cursing, kept the pace quiet slow. Billy moved to stand beside Elijah.

“They really love him, don’t they?”

Elijah smiled wistfully. “We all do. Viggo would do anything for us.”

Billy smiled. “It must be nice. To have someone like that in your life.” He looked at Elijah. “I do get the feeling that you’re all very close.”

Billy was quickly becoming a part of their little group. Unlike Dominic or himself, Billy seemed to fit right in, to take his apparent enslavement in his stride. When Elijah had asked him on it he had simply smiled. He told him it was hard not to want to be a part of their family. Listening to the Prince complain, Elijah could only agree. They were all rather lucky.

Dom stuck his head out of an archway. “There you are! What took so long?”

Elijah smirked, gesturing with his head to the other boys and their Prince. Dominic laughed, shaking his head, before returning to the rooms. Elijah went to Jared’s side beside the Prince, reaching up to cover his eyes. Viggo squirmed, uncomfortable with the sudden loss of his sight, but finally quieted as he realized they had reached their destination.

They guided him beneath the archway, stopping him just inside. Elijah stood on his tip toes, whispering into his ear. “Welcome home, my dear Prince.” He removed his hand in a flourish. Viggo gasped at the sight before him.

As with their old rooms Viggo stood in a central courtyard. That was where, however, the similarities stopped. This room was much bigger, Elijah had been delighted when Liv had mentioned it could comfortably entertain fifty men, thirty if they wished to make use of the dance floor. There were two circular fire places, circular, both in the middle of the room, though there was a good ten meters between them. A large mosaic circle, encompassing the two pits, served as their dance floor. It had taken Jared forever, but using colored tiles he had designed a pattern showing the moon eclipsing the sun.

The rest of the floor, and the walls as well, were terracotta, keeping the room cool in the day and warm at night. A circular skylight, the same size and position as the dance floor let the sun in through the high ceiling. Elijah had attached gold and teal silk to the roof, instead of looking extravagant it billowed invitingly in the small breeze.

Apparently the last occupant of the rooms had loved plants and had vines growing up from pots along the walls. The boys had trimmed them, but couldn’t bring themselves to remove them. In thanks, small yellow and orange flowers had bloomed under their care, complementing the gold silk. Many of the vines reached towards the roof.

With Dominic’s help, Elijah had drilled small alcoves all through the walls where he had put many small, scented candles. At night the room would be lit by them, making it look as though the fey had taken residence within their walls and the scent was subtle enough to create a calming atmosphere for their Prince.

The pillows Elijah had secured were pale gold, teal and ruby, both big and small, and were congregated in front of the dance floor with two low tables. For now, there were enough places for all of them, though Elijah expected they’d probably end up sharing places. More pillows and better placing could be added for entertaining, but for now it was all Elijah had had time to get into place. With the Prince still recovering he thought they’d leave that detail for later.

“Would you like to see the rest?” Elijah teased, thrilled at the look of awe on Viggo’s face.

“Please?”

Two archways led off the court yard and Elijah steered him gently to the first. He knew there wasn’t much to show here, but he took a moment to take Viggo into his practice area. The weapons from his last quarters, plus a few more, lined the walls, open windows showed the south side of Aqaba. The view was magnificent, but Viggo seemed much more interested in the new weapons. Elijah gently reminded him there was more to see and tried not to laugh at the look of disappointment on the Prince’s face.

The second archway was bigger and much more ornamental. Whoever had designed it had taken a lot of care, the tiles shaped in decorated with the patterns of the vines and flowers that grew on the walls. Viggo’s delight only increased as they entered the garden.

Elijah had been glad that all they‘d had to do in here was some light weeding and general cleaning. The paved walk way led to several separate doors dancing between dark leaves with red veins. There was no ceiling, instead the sky shone down on the small, green oasis. The vines were thicker here, with white flowers as well as the yellow. There was a small, comfortable patch of grass by the archway that Elijah loved.

There were two marvels in the room. The first was the waterfall. It fell from the mouth of a large lion into a small pond at the far wall, the smell of the fresh running water filled the room. Elijah knew, even though Aqaba had been gifted with a fresh water supply, running water used in this way was a prize. The waterfall irrigated the plant beds through what seemed to be a series of clay pipes through the floor and the water that didn’t go through the pipes was recycled back into the waterfall. The pond, Jared had been delighted to find out, was the home of two gold fish as large as his forearm, one pure gold, the other white splattered with red.

What Elijah truly loved was the old peach tree that grew in the centre of the room. It reached high into the air, its branches offering a little shade from the sun. It was in bloom at the moment, pale pink flowers greeting them all. There was a small bench beneath the tree, meant for no more then three people and Elijah could already see it become a fought over spot.

“My goodness,” Viggo breathed, stepping further into the room, “this is lovely.”

“It appears the Caliph wanted to apologize in his own way.”

“Sean!” Elijah turned, finding the blond man lounging against the arch way. He smiled at Elijah, moving into the room, giving him a gentle kiss.

“It looks lovely,” Sean told him, “you boys really out did yourselves.”

"You haven’t seen the bedrooms yet,” Dom grinned, “or the bathroom!”

That said, Elijah coaxed them to the first door on the right. The paving in the bathroom was sandy instead of terracotta, the tiles grainy to stop wet feet from slipping. A deep pool in the centre of the room, empty at the moment, could happily fit six people at once. The lip of the pool also allowed others to sit around the pool comfortably without having to get in.

Sean gave a low whistle “And just how many were you expecting to bathe at once?” Dom opened his mouth, eyes sparkling and Sean laughed. “Don’t answer that.”

Viggo chuckled, sharing an amused look with the older man. “You mentioned bedrooms?”

“This way,” Orlando was starting to bounce, his worry for Viggo dying as he became excited to show him the rooms. They walked across to the other side of the garden and Orlando opened the closest door. “This is the Kitten room.” 

Though the room was quiet beautiful and larger than Viggo’s old room, not as much thought had gone into it as the courtyard. It had a large bed that would easily fit the five of them, and a cot or two, in case they wanted privacy, though Elijah couldn’t imagine why they would. Or, of course, if their group grew bigger. They had drawers and a chest for they’re clothing, the drawer tops home to precious things to them, mainly the gifts they had received from their Prince.

If they did end up spending time in here it wouldn’t be much.

There was, however, a door on the left wall that Elijah led the two men to with a smile.

“And this,” he said with delight, “is the Prince’s room.”

The door opened, revealing possibly the largest of all the rooms. The ceiling was high, someone long ago had painted a motif of the starry night sky. You could pick out the constellations that were found in the summer sky.

Tall windows were a part of the west wall, from there you could see the setting sun over the horizon. They were high enough up to get a beautiful view of the city below. Dom said that he would not have not been able to scale that wall, so the boys had put away their misgivings. They had not wanted to boarded up the lovely view the windows afforded them.

There was a small room off to the side that held Viggo’s clothing. Dom had laughed at that, saying that Viggo didn’t own enough clothes to warrant an extra room for them. Elijah could only agree, the Prince’s interests didn’t really lay in clothing and he barely had enough to get by with. For a Prince anyway.

The bed was, without a doubt, the centerpiece of the room. Elijah would not have been surprised if the whole set of rooms had been built around it. A wall would have to be removed if it ever had to go somewhere else in the palace. It was quite high, steps were on one side for those who were not well enough to lift their body onto it. Elijah had no doubt no one in the room would have a problem though.

Elijah could not be certain exactly how many people could fit in it, but they would all be able to sleep in it without touching anyone even if they were stretched out completely. Curled up together, as they normally slept, there would be more then half the bed left. And he knew from experience it was as soft as duck feathers.

He had covered it with burgundy linen with a gold trim, following along with the colors in the other rooms, but really, the bed needed little dressing up.

Orlando adored it.

“What do you think?”

Viggo took a few moments before he was able to speak. “It’s amazing.”

Orlando made a small excited noise before he kissed the Prince. “Really?” The rest of the Kittens and Sean shared amused looks when the kiss deepened. Orlando had missed their Prince.

“Perhaps you’d like a bath, Billy?” Jared asked, casting Orlando a look as the other young man dragged Viggo to his new bed. “I think our Prince will be well looked after for the time being.”

“Orlando has to do a thorough examination,” Dom’s face was dead-pan, “just to make sure the Prince is all right in every way.” 

“More information than I needed.” Billy made a face. Orlando could be heard giggling lightly. “But a bath would be lovely.” 

Jared led them through the other door in Viggo’s large room which led back into the garden. Elijah took Sean’s arm, making the other man stop as the boys continued towards the bath house. At one point Dom’s gaze flicked back to them, a smile on his lips before returning to the other boys.

“There was something I wanted to show you,” Elijah told him quietly, threading their fingers together he led them behind the tree and to a fourth door that Sean hadn’t seen before. “Open it.”

Amused, Sean paused, ducking down to kiss Elijah again. He was a lot happier today, Elijah could only wonder what the Caliph had said him. He opened the door.

“This is your room,” Elijah led him in. It wasn’t nearly as extravagant as Viggo’s, Elijah had stuck to teal and a pale gold in here. There was a chest of drawers with the few pieces of clothing in it he owned, and windows that faced the north and to the sea. The bed would fit five occupants easily and was dressed in the same teal colour.

“My room?” Sean was surprised, it made Elijah smile. “But I thought-“

“You’re a free man now, why would you not have your own room?”

Sean’s arms dragged him into a tight embrace, Elijah clung to him, smiling into his shirt, glad to have made him happy.

“The Caliph has given me the position of Viggo’s personal guard. He has asked that I do not leave his side,” Sean whispered into Elijah’s hair. “I’ll be here to keep you all safe. Nothing will happen, to any of you, ever again.”

Elijah nodded, holding on just a little tighter. Everything would be fine now. Sean was all theirs, the Prince was well. Nothing could hurt them anymore.

At least, that was what he prayed for.


	66. Chapter 66

LVI  
by Beryll

"Aaiiieh!"

The attack came with all the vigour of a warrior in true battle. It wasn't fast enough that Viggo couldn't have evaded it but instead of twisting out of the way he allowed the small wooden sword to strike his shield as hard as the young boy tackling him could and then dropped it in a display of pain, falling over on to his back.

Immediately he was straddled by Numair who made a show of pressing his wooden sword to his elder brother's throat, shrieking with glee.

Then he remembered that he was supposed to be the hero and put on the cutest solemn face.

"Do you yield?" he asked with all the importance a five year old could muster.

Viggo couldn't help but smile up at him, his heart warming at the display of boundless energy and happiness.

When he had walked into the nursery the children had stared at him as if he was an apparition for a long, long moment but then both of them had dropped what they were doing and hurled themselves at him, crying and laughing at the same time, clinging to him as if they intended to never let go again. It had taken Viggo a while to convince them that he was not dead, not dying and wasn't going to die any time soon.

Seeing how very afraid of losing him they had been had shown him how little time he had actually spent with them and what he had been missing. Even though he was only their adopted brother they perceived him as a full brother, loving him as if he'd been there all their lives. So he had promised himself that he would visit them more often in the future and have them over to his new quarters as well. He was very sure his kittens would enjoy their company as much as he did.

"I yield." he answered.

The boy looked over at his sister who had been watching the mock battle with rapt attention with a huge grin.

"See? I have slain the villain for you!" he announced and Kalila dutifully clapped her hands in applause.

Then Numair dropped his wooden sword in very unhero-like fashion and hugged Viggo.

Viggo cuddled the boy back and sat up with him in his arms. "You have become really got with your sword, little brother." he told the boy seriously.

Numair beamed with pride. "You think father will give me a real sword now?"

Personally Viggo thought that five years was old enough to start training in earnest but he wasn't sure what Hugo thought of the matter so he his head thoughtfully. "That you will have to ask him," he answered, "a Caliph must decide carefully who he awards the right to bear arms."

That seemed to make sense to the boy. Viggo set him back on his feet. Glancing out of the window he realized that the sun was setting already. He had spent more than two hours at the nursery and not even realized how much time had passed. The kittens would be missing him, probably worrying too much about his health.

He really was well again. Better - actually - than he had been since his brush with the desert, but they still treated him as if he might break at a loud word. They probably would for quite a while. He had scared all of them badly.

At least Liv was at last convinced that he was fine and allowed him out of his quarters and back to work. Even if he was supposed to start slowly. Viggo thought back to the conversation he had had with Hugo a few hours earlier. They had both started apologizing for their ridiculous behaviour as soon as they saw each other.

When Viggo thought about the fact that it had been Karl they had argued about so hard he felt bile rise in his throat. A whipping was too good for the man. He should be publicly skinned and stoned for what he had done to Jared.

Which reminded Viggo of the fact that he still hadn't talked to the young man.

"I will have to go now," he told Numair and Kalila, "but I hope you will come and visit me some time too?"

"If we may?" Kalila glanced over at their nurse who nodded with an approving smile. "Then we will be honoured to come and visit." Kalila answered, in what she perceived as a queenly fashion, and Numair bobbed his head in an enthusiastic affirmative.

-

The way back to his new suite took Viggo only a few minutes without any kittens attached to him who trying to make sure he 'didn't overtax his strength'. His quarters lay curiously quiet. Wondering where his noisy kittens had got to, Viggo crossed the main court room to the garden.

In the archway he stopped to marvel at the sight presented to him. Under the tree a large blanket had been spread and there his kittens lay in a heap of relaxed bodies, all resting on top of each other, all asleep. Elijah and Orlando were at the bottom of the pile, cuddled against each other. Dom was sleeping on his stomach with his head on Orlando's legs and Billy was using Dom's back as his pillow. They looked exceedingly happy and peaceful and by their state of undress Viggo guessed that they had been taking a sunbath before the sun had set on them.

Only Jared was missing.

Silently Viggo passed his kittens by without waking them, looking for the fifth and most mature of them. He didn't have to search long. From his bedroom he heard soft footfalls and when he entered he found Jared carefully making the huge bed, fluffing up pillows and straightening out blankets. He immediately noticed the soft clicking of the pearl curtain separating the garden from the bedroom and turned around. When he realized it was Viggo, he quickly dropped his gaze and knelt.

With a sigh Viggo stepped inside, letting the curtain drop closed behind him. Having people kneel to him still felt odd even after all the months he had now spent in Aqaba. He could stand it from the general palace slaves but he really didn't want to see his kittens do it. He considered them his family almost as much as his adopted siblings.

He went over to the bed where Jared knelt and sat down, looking at the beautiful young man whose life he had bought as he might buy an orange on the market. It still felt wrong. He knew he was supposed to get used to it but he doubted it would ever happen. Some things he would always loathe Slavery was definitely one of them.

Jared's hair hid his face like a protective curtain and his lowered gaze hid his eyes, making it impossible for Viggo to guess his feelings. He had no idea if Jared was happy in his service or if, maybe, he was longing for some other life and he doubted if Jared would tell him. Not until Viggo managed to win his trust as he had somehow managed with Orlando and Elijah and - to a degree - with Dom.

Only one way to get started down that path.

"I was looking for you, Jared." Viggo said, waiting to see if the young man kneeling by his feet would react in any way. When no reaction came, Viggo continued: "Sean has brought to my attention that you seem to believe your stay here at the palace, in my service, is a temporary one - that you are here only until you have taught my kittens what they wish to learn in order to serve me better."

Viggo purposely did not mention the exact nature of the lessons Jared provided the kittens with. That was another thing he wasn't entirely sure if he approved of. Teaching someone how to please another sounded too much like turning them into whores to Viggo. But it had been the kittens idea and they seemed to thoroughly enjoy their lessons.

At least Viggo guessed so from the giggling and happy moans he had heard from their room this morning. He would have gone in to check, and his fingers had itched to participate, but they had positioned Sean in front of their door to keep him out while Billy and Dom had taken over serving his breakfast and distracting him.

So far he hadn't had a chance to sample his kitten's 'new skills' - he hadn't even had time to see if Elijah was more trusting in that regard now, and he couldn't help but look forward to it. Maybe spending this kind of quality time with the kittens would also convince them that he was no longer weak and ill.

He reached down and gently lifted Jared face with a finger under his chin so that the young man had to look at him. The silken hair parted like a curtain and incredibly blue eyes looked up at him fearfully. Really, this was no surprise after what had already happened to him in Viggo's service. The thought made Viggo's stomach cramp in anger but he managed to keep his voice calm and friendly when he continued.

"I wish to reassure you that I consider you not only the teacher of my kittens but a valued member of my household and that I will not be parted from your company. I wish you to stay with me for as long as you are comfortable."

Jared blinked at him in the sweetest confusion but then a shy smile came to his lips. "Thank you, my lord." he said. 

Viggo felt relief when Jared didn't look away again. He was surprised though when Jared leaned forward to rub his cheek against Viggo's knee in a very catlike way.

"You don't have to do this," he said awkwardly, feeling excitement course through his veins as it had been before he had fallen ill since he had been with Orlando - and the sight of this beautiful creature inviting him was hard to resist. But after what Karl had done to Jared he didn't want to use him like that, he was well aware of how Sean had fled after a single kiss. "I won't ever force you, Jared." he tried to explain.

He didn't understand when the expression in Jared's eyes turned to hurt and then dull acceptance. He immediately withdrew and Viggo knew he had said something wrong even if he had no idea what it had been.

"I understand, my lord," Jared said meekly, "of course you have better at your disposal."

That really was the last thing Viggo wanted him to believe, here he was trying to be kind and instead he had hurt the young man's feelings even more. Obviously he wasn't very good at dealing with people.

"No," with gentle insistence Viggo drew Jared closer again, "you misunderstand, dear. Sean... told me what Karl did... and I thought you would prefer... well... not having me groping you..." It sounded not as caring and wise as Viggo would have wished but his words seemed to have the desired effect as Jared's smile blossomed again, this time even brighter.

"My lord, I have been a whore for a long while, being taken like that is not new to me. I can deal with it," Jared explained solemnly, "but to know that you would look at me with disgust..."

"What has been done to you makes me want to protect you, not feel disgusted." Viggo interrupted him.

Jared nodded. "Thank you, my lord." Again he shifted closer, resting his cheek against Viggo's knee. "I would be honoured to know your touch, my lord." he added softly.

How was one supposed to resist an offer like that? And why should one try?

He leaned down, tipping Jared‘s face up again to claim his mouth in a gentle kiss. There was no hesitation in Jared's response. On the contrary - he leaned into the kiss hungrily, allowing Viggo to probe his mouth deeply, moaning softly.

It didn't really make sense to Viggo that Jared wasn't shy and angry, as Sean had been, but he didn't complain when the younger man climbed onto his lap without breaking their kiss and wrapped his arms around Viggo's neck.

Jared seemed to sense his hesitation though. As they broke their kiss, he smiled at Viggo and when he spoke his voice was husky with desire. "I know pain, my lord," he explained, "but I crave pleasure as anybody would. So I crave you."

That doused Viggo's last doubts.

With a soft chuckle he rolled both of them fully onto the huge bed so that he came to rest above the lithe body of Jared, arching up against him hungrily.

"Then we‘d better be quiet or we will have the kittens as company soon." he whispered into Jared's ear before starting to kiss it greedily. 

Jared answered with soft laughter that sounded like sweetest music to Viggo. Obviously neither Karl nor his previous costumers had managed to break the young man's spirit. Jared stretched beneath him, showing off his lean beauty, gazing up at Viggo with a trust that Viggo hadn't dared hope for.

Slowly Viggo worked his way down the younger man's body, trailing kisses along the way. The short vest Jared wore offered no restrictions so Viggo kissed and licked at Jared's nipples and then went lower, lapping at Jared's naval. He grinned against Jared's skin when he heard muffled moans of pleasure. One glance showed him that Jared was biting his lips hard to stay quiet. He really didn't want to share, obviously.

Glancing down again he was faced with a growing tent in Jared's pantaloons. With a smirk he freed the young man's cock, eyeing it curiously. Slender but long it matched Jared's beauty perfectly. Viggo took a testing lick and was rewarded with another suppressed moan. Encouraged, he sucked the rapidly hardening cock into his mouth. He was sure he wasn't doing it with half as much expertise as Jared surely possessed but it was obviously good enough as Jared's hand came down to fist in his hair and he bucked up hungrily into Viggo’s mouth.

With one hand Viggo held Jared's hips down, with the other he held the base of Jared's cock and swallowed him as deeply as he could. The small, mewling sounds Jared made were simply delightful and Viggo was tempted to just let him cum like that.

Then again there was his own raging hard cock to consider.

He slowed down a bit until Jared relaxed and then reached lower, running his fingers over the smooth skin of Jared's rear. Immediately Jared spread his legs further, allowing Viggo better access. He gently probed Jared‘s hole and was more than a little surprised when he found the opening slick and his finger slipped inside easily, the only resistance he met was that of muscles clenching.

A little confused he glanced up at Jared and was met with a sheepish grin. "Always be prepared." the young man explained.

Even if Viggo definitely didn't approve of the implications he couldn't help but grin back as it made things much easier. He caressed Jared inside and again was rewarded with a low moan.

"Oh yes," Jared whispered, pushing his hips up to meet Viggo's explorations, "please, my lord."

Viggo was sure Jared wouldn't have needed more preparation but he still took his time opening him up until he took three fingers easily and was softly begging for more.

Then he separated from Jared, and removed first Jared's pantaloons, then his own clothes, well aware of Jared's hungry gaze resting on him. He knelt between Jared's spread legs and slowly pulled him closer. With his cock nudging Jared's hole he took a moment to enjoy the exceptional view, then he pushed inside the welcoming heat, echoing Jared's happy moan with a growl of his own.

The moment Jared's ass clenched on his cock, milking him, he knew that he wouldn't last long. It had been too long since he had enjoyed the act of love to allow him to keep control and by the way Jared was writhing, his fingers clawing at the blankets he guessed that he wouldn't mind it hard and fast.

They moved with single-minded purpose, Viggo thrusting into the willing body and Jared pushing back against him, hooking his feet behind Viggo's back. Quickly they both abandoned quiet as Jared gasped and moaned with his mouth wide open, his head thrown back in pure rapture and Viggo growled and groaned, holding Jared by the hips and slamming into him again and again.

He didn't even need to touch Jared's cock again to bring him over the edge. It just happened, Jared's whole body tensing up, his ass gripping at Viggo's cock. With a scream the young man came, his back arching off the bed.

It was one of the hottest things Viggo had ever seen and while Jared was still coming he thrust into him hard and deep and came as well, grunting with his own release.

Then Jared slumped back onto the bed bonelessly, a somewhat stupid, but very happy, smile plastered over his face. Viggo slipped from him and then leaned down to kiss him again, feeling the same sated happiness.

"Thank you, my lord," Jared murmured when they parted.

They both jumped when they heard Orlando's amused voice from the doorway. "Unfair! You started without me!"


	67. Chapter 67

LXVII  
By Mel

Settling into their new home didn’t take very long. Having the two rooms to tend, one with Viggo and the other with Sean, saw the boys dividing their time between the two men. Sean spent most of his waking time between being by Viggo’s side and keeping the kittens company. It was good to feel useful again.

The boys finished organizing the rooms and were relaxing in each other’s company. Ian had pulled them aside, letting them know that the Caliph’s 50th birthday celebrations were fast approaching. The preparations had been muted while the Prince had been sick, but now that Liv had given him a clean bill of health, everything was back in full swing.

Elijah and Orlando had taken Jared with them for the dancing lessons Ian had suddenly foisted on them. Viggo might find himself having to entertain dignitaries and guests who were visiting for the Birthday and Ian wanted to be sure the boys were ready for it. Sean was with Viggo whilst he was working. Though the Caliph had done most of the work that he could, there were still things that had required Viggo's input and signature. Though the Caliph had insisted he start slowly, there was still much to catch up on and Viggo was quickly finding himself swamped. The kittens took care to look after him when he did arrive home.

But that wouldn’t be for quite some time yet.

For now only Dominic and Billy remained in their rooms. They sat back to back, Dom’s head bent over in one of Orlando’s puzzles that he had half finished and left lying in the corner of the courtyard. Billy used his back to hold himself up as he, very carefully, strung beads on a single wire.

“Who’s that for?” Dom asked, finding a piece and putting it into place.

“The Prince,” Dom could hear the other man’s smile. Billy was a funny one, Dom had decided. Dom had thought most free people would object to finding out they’d been given, without their permission, to another man. They had all fought in their own way, with Orlando being the only exception, and Dom believed the other boy would always be an exception.

To find Billy, who had obviously been ripped from his homeland, could also set himself easily to this life, was something Dom found difficult to believe.

“Each bead,” Billy continued, oblivious to Dom’s thoughts, “is a rune, part of a more complex protection spell than I could hope to ward around the rooms. They guard against many things. They will heat when poisons are near by, and alert me should a curse be directed against the bearer. Together with the copper wire connecting them, and a little of my own will, it should make a fine portable protection charm.”

“Why?” Dom asked, attention wavering from the puzzle. “Why so much trouble for a man you don’t even know? For a man who now owns you?”

Dom was surprised to hear Billy chuckle. It was not quite the response the other boy had expected. It was light, Billy sounded generally amused by the question.

“You don’t know much about my people, do you?” Billy asked, though he didn’t appear to need an answer. “I suppose that’s understandable, with so much land and sea between here and my homeland, I would be surprised if you did.” There was silence for a moment.

“Did you know I never knew my family? Druids and magic workers are found long before their third year. Before they have any memory of their families or parents. I was two when I was brought into the fold. I can not remember my Mother’s face or Father’s touch.”

It was such an easy revelation that Dominic couldn’t stop a small shiver. Billy talked about it as if the very thought of it was common knowledge. Dom could not imagine not knowing his Father.

“It’s not an awful thing,” Billy assured him, “amongst my people it’s a great honour. It also serves the purpose that our only attachment is to the order and we can not be used for selfish needs. We can be kept safe and trained to use our gifts. To survive the first years of training is a great feat that few manage. To keep the use of only a few limbs, or to die, happen more often than actually making it to adulthood.”

“That’s awful,” Dom breathed, staring at the puzzle in disbelief. How could anyone do that to a child?

"There’s not really much choice, considering the other option."

“Other option?”

“To be hidden by your family when they realise your gift. To be untrained, full of raw magic. Then when something awful happens to call on powers you can’t even begin to control. To kill everyone within many miles who can not use their own magic to protect themselves. I’ve seen it Dominic.” The voice was cold. “We could feel untapped magic as we were passing a village. We stopped in the hope of getting the child peacefully, we had only made it to the outskirts when we saw another child fall from a horse in front of the young wizard. We barely had enough time to set up our wards before the backlash of surging magic engulfed us. When we woke up the village, as well as its families and children, were gone.”

Billy looked slightly over his shoulder, his hair brushing against Dom’s skin. “Isn’t it better for someone with that sort of power, to develop their attachments after they can control it? Than destroy a whole village and die anyway?” Billy sighed. “I sometimes wish I had been born without this gift, that I could have been brought up with a family and close friends. When the only protection I would have had to offer them was my own hand and mind.”

Again Dom could feel the smile, the underlying happiness. “But why wish for something you can’t change? For something that’s nothing more than a passing fancy? Why, when I can do so much good?”

There it was. What Dom had been searching for. The reason he had wanted to hear.

Why Billy choose to stay here with them.

“You’re here to keep us safe.”

Turning Dominic found himself regarded with a delighted twinkle and a gentle smile. There was no malice, no hate, no ulterior motive. Just Billy, plain and simple. His heart laid bare and open, his honest feelings had always been there.

“Do no harm,” Billy smiled, “it’s the first oath we ever make. ‘Do no harm, Protect the weak’. Besides,” he tapped a finger against Dom’s nose, “isn’t that why you’re here?”

Dom’s smile spread across his face. Of course, Billy was right. When he first arrived, he had been here to protect Orlando. Things had changed, the number of people he protected had grown.

“If you didn’t stay here to protect the ones you loved, then why else would you be here?” Billy chuckled, slinging his arm around the other boy’s shoulder. “And now I can take over.”

“Take over?” Dom scoffed, “I don’t think so.”

“Sure you do! I’m older, and stronger and-”

“An idiot?” Dom tackled the other boy before he could finish his sentence. The courtyard rang with light laughter for some time.


	68. Chapter 68

LXVIII  
by Beryll

More than a week had passed since Prince Viggo had been saved from the nearly fatal curse. Most of the palace had been left in the belief that the Prince had been ill, but had recovered by the grace of Allah and the healing hands of Liv. The fact that it had been an attempt on his life, which had almost succeeded, was kept to a select very few.

Karl knew of course and it worried him deeply. He had no doubts that those who had placed the curse on the Prince were the same people who had sent assassins before to murder the children , and who had hired Dominic. That they also had such magical powers at their disposal made them even more dangerous enemies. Especially considering the fact that he still had no clue who they were and why they were threatening the Caliph's children.

This mystery should have taken up all of Karl's time, his whole attention should have been focused on finding out who was trying to harm his master.

But the private matters weighing on his mind were effectively blocking him from finding even one clear thought. Without even showing up in person his father had managed yet again to ruin Karl's life. The simple mention of his name had sent him into a frightened rage that had destroyed everything he had worked for so hard for such a long time.

The carefully built trust and friendship between him and Sean was gone. When he looked at the other man's face now all he saw was disgust and there was a cold distance between them that cut Karl deeper than rage or open accusations would have. Since that morning in the office Sean had not spoken with Karl on anything but professional matters.

Karl longed for the return of their casual closeness more than he would ever have believed possible. He hadn't even known how much he needed a friend, a brother, until he'd had one. The silent understanding which had grown between them had given him strength and a confidence that anything could be overcome.

He would have loved to explain, to tell Sean what had happened to him, why he had harmed - no, not harmed, raped - the young whore, to tell Sean how very sorry he was. Not just because it had cost him Sean's friendship but for the fact that he had hurt someone who could not defend himself, and because he had become the very thing he had hated all his youth.

But there was no way of telling Sean without also explaining what he had learned on the slave market. That it had been Karl's father who had owned Sean, who had nearly broken him. Besides he couldn't hope that this knowledge would repair the broken friendship between them. Probably Sean would hate him even more for it and Karl wasn't sure if he could bear any more.

Then there was the Prince of course. The few times he had seen Prince Viggo since his recovery the look in his eyes had pierced Karl's heart. Where the anger in Sean's eyes was veiled, it was open and ready to erupt in Viggo's. Karl had no doubt that Sean had calmed the Prince. He had expected Viggo on his doorstep the moment he had learned of Karl's crime, with sword in hand and murder on his mind. He had half wished for it, to end his misery, but he had not been granted the mercy of an easy way out.

At least the Caliph had obviously not learned of his acts. Or, if he had, he didn't care. Then again he was extremely busy with the preparations for the great birthday celebrations. The festivities would last an entire week with guests from all over the world attending. It was an organisational nightmare and Karl was of course right in the middle of it. There were a million security issues to be considered with so many dignitaries coming to the city, and most of them ultimately found their way to Karl's desk.

Only one factor had been removed from his considerations: Prince Viggo. Karl remained the Captain of the Caliph's guard but Sean - now freed - had been named Captain of the Prince's Guard, with men of his own to command. It had rankled on a deeply emotional level that the Prince had been removed from Karl's care but most of the time Karl was grateful that he didn't have to deal with him on a daily basis. The smouldering hatred of the Prince would have killed him.

He still had to interact with Sean though, spending hours with him in planning. It was pure torture and he knew that his men were picking up on the tension between them. None of them knew what had happened between them, what had caused the rift, but all of them worried for their Captain and for Sean. Making tentative attempts to bring them closer again, the men began arranging chance meetings between the two Captains such as making sure they were training at the same time - completely oblivious to the fact that they were just making things worse.

Life was hell for Karl and it didn't look as though things would get better any time soon.

\---

Sean greeted the two guards at the entrance to the Prince's quarters with a silent nod. It was well past midnight and the palace lay silent but the two men were alert and wide awake, not lulled at all by the general peace. Sean had trained both of them and picked them when the Caliph had told him to choose which men should form the Prince's guard. None had given Sean any trouble. At first he had been worried that they would resent the fact that only a few days before he had still been a slave and they were now supposed to follow his commands. Sean had realized quickly that they had been following his commands all along anyway. They had accepted him as their commander because they had recognized him to be a man who would lead them well.

For them the matter was quite simple. All the worries were only in his head. It was he who felt unworthy not they who looked at him with anything but respect and trust.

Silently Sean crossed the courtyard and the garden. Both lay silent and deserted, the kittens and Viggo had long since retired to their huge bed. The thought brought a smile to Sean's face. The kittens had managed what Viggo's mother had often despaired over - getting him to bed before the sun rose again. The Prince had a habit, just like Sean, of working overtime, but he was unable to resist his kittens sweet worry for his well being.

Maybe a kitten would be good for him too, Sean thought ruefully. He had spent the last hours discussing security with Karl and Ian. The slave trainer and ex-general had been brought out of retirement to advise on the complicated endeavor of organising the festivities for the Caliph's 40th birthday.

The work hadn't bothered Sean at all. It felt good to do something useful. But having to stay locked up with Karl in one room for an extended amount of time was proving harder and harder each day. On the one hand there was the overwhelming urge to strangle the man. On the other hand there was also the growing feeling that he was missing something vitally important. No matter how hard he tried - he simply couldn't ignore the fact that Karl looked miserable. Sometimes Sean caught himself wishing for nothing more than to take the Captain aside and simply ask him what was wrong.

But then he remembered Jared, curled up in his arms and crying, and that notion was quickly drowned in cold rage. How could he pity a man who was capable of such acts?

Rubbing his face tiredly, Sean entered his own room. In the doorway he stopped, surprised at the fact that the room was not empty.

Curled up on the bed lay Elijah, hugging Sean's pillow in his arms. Next to him on the bed sat a tray with bread, cheese and some dates which he had obviously brought earlier to serve as Sean's dinner. That he had waited for Sean and fallen asleep over it warmed Sean's heart deeply.

He already had a kitten taking care of him, Sean thought, going over to the bed and sitting down on the edge, gazing at Elijah fondly. Relaxed in sleep the boy looked younger, much more carefree then the serious young man he presented to the world when he was awake.

Sean reached out and gently touched Elijah's shoulder. When he didn't react he leaned over the boy and placed a soft kiss against his brow. Elijah muttered in his sleep but didn't really wake.

The thought of sharing Viggo's huge bed still scared Sean to his bones but the idea of having Elijah in his provoked a wholly different reaction. In particular the thought of waking up with a warm, curious kitten wrapped around him was rather enticing.

With a minimum of noise Sean removed his armour and undergarments and the tray from the bed. Then he carefully shifted Elijah so he could settle both of them under the light blanket. Again Elijah muttered some complaint, no more than half awake, but when Sean wrapped his arms around the boy he calmed immediately, snuggling against him.

With a contented sigh Sean closed his eyes as well, Elijah's scent calming him, filling his mind with pleasant memories, allowing him to slip quickly into sleep.


	69. Chapter 69

LXIX  
By Mel

Ian sent Sean back to bed earlier than was necessary, telling the man they were done for the night. He watched Sean drag his body out of the room, nodding his goodbye to Ian, ignoring Karl entirely. 

He had known that something was going on between these two in the last few days. Something deeper than a simple clash of wills. At first, Ian had brushed it off. Sean was a haunted individual, you only had to look into his eyes to know it. He had thought that Karl must have said something to spark the man’s memories. That it was something they would then be able to sort through.

However, after four days of Sean ignoring Karl and giving curt replies to his questions, Ian made some discreet inquires among the guards, slaves and servants. It was the quickest way to find out anything in the palace, though the information was not always entirely accurate. Quickly dismissing the rumours that Karl had cut off Sean’s manhood, Ian listened to tales of Sean defending a street whore from Karl.

It didn’t seem possible, Ian was certain he was hearing things wrong somehow. But when the same story came up a number of times, he couldn’t simply dismiss it. Yet Karl was the only man Ian knew, with the possible exception of the Prince, who did not sample the delights of the palace pleasure slaves, or even the whores in the bazaar. The man had slaves, obviously, you could not live here and not have them. He only took lovers into his bed though.

Ian had always passed it off as a particular preference. Perhaps Karl had been hurt by a whore before, or had been one himself. Whatever the cause, there was no reason to question it, and it had never caused a problem in the court except when the pleasure slaves bemoaned their not getting a chance to sample the Captain’s delights.

Until now. 

The Prince, whenever he came close to Karl, would tense up. So far things had been fine. Karl no longer had to deal directly with the Prince. Watching Karl deal with Sean was even more worrying. Karl was trying very hard not to let whatever problem they were having affect him, but Ian could see him crumbling at the edges. It wouldn’t be long until Karl fell apart completely.

Ian, despite rumours to the contrary, was not an interfering man. Where problems were better fixed without his involvement, he left them to others. 

The Prince’s boys were a prime example, where his interference was practically nil. He could have been a lot more involved. There were times, for example, when he wanted to smack young Dominic on the back of the head and tell him where he was treading on dangerous ground. But if he had then those boys would never have learned to get along on their own. They may have even blamed him one day for forcing them to become friends. Most of the time, if they were left to naturally progress, things would be fine.

This time, Ian was not sure if he could keep out of it, that if he left things to continue naturally, they would be fine. Watching Karl relax, or rather slump for a moment, Ian was sure these boys needed a hand.

“We are almost done,” Ian told him gently, rousing the exhausted man. “Then you should go to sleep.”

“I will not sleep,” came the slightly acidic reply. It would have startled Ian if he had not known how close to breaking point Karl already was. “I don’t deserve to sleep.”

“Do you want to talk about it, old friend?” Ian asked gently.

Karl’s whole body stiffened, and for a moment Ian thought he would truly break. That he would fall apart right in front of him. But Karl surprised him, instead he took a shuddering breath - and then another. He straightened and Ian watched as he pulled himself back together. It took a little time but then his mask was back in place.

“No, it’s nothing.”

Ian sighed. Things would be much easier if only Karl would just talk to him. He knew better than to press this delicate matter though. Karl would come to him when he was ready. Or maybe he would go to someone else. Perhaps he would speak of these things to young Orlando. He had known and loved the boy almost his whole life, surely if there was someone he could confide in it would be him. 

Whatever it was that was worrying him, Karl needed healing, he was no use to anyone in this state. Ian vowed he would get it seen to long before the Caliph saw a reason to replace the man. He was certain that, should that happen, the already breaking man would be destroyed. His duty was the only thing he seemed to be able to cling to. Ian wouldn’t let it be taken from him.

“Of course,” Ian’s tone betrayed his worry and Karl looked at him.

Ian saw that his amber eyes were haunted and it was painful to watch him try to smile. How had the roles changed? How had Sean’s eyes become strong and unforgiving? And Karl’s fallen and lost?

“It’s fine, old man.” Karl lied.

Ian scowled, letting it pass. If Karl wouldn’t talk to him there was nothing he could do yet. He sighed. “Let’s finish these plans.”

Ian could only let it pass. He watched Karl for a few more moments before joining him, burying his own head in the plans. He had to give it time, but it was becoming obvious that it was time he was running out of.

\---

“My lord?”

The Caliph was brought back from his pondering. The sky was so clear when the city lights had burned down. Sometimes it was a joy to watch the stars, to pretend he was a child again and see how many he could count before he became caught up in the sheer wonder of it all.

He turned to find Liv standing in his doorway, framed by the light of the single candle she held.

“The household sleeps, my lord,” she smiled gently from beneath her veil, “with your permission I would retire.”

Even after all her years of service, Liv asked every night for permission to sleep. She was a creature of habit and routine and Hugo had no desire to curb her. She had grown up as a child in the palace, and had, at one time or another, worked at practically every job possible. She had spent as much time with the healers as she had with the kitchen staff.

Her whole family had been slaves. They had worked hard for Hugo, but none had stood out until Liv had been born. She was had been their saving grace many times and when she had reached sixteen the Caliph had been happy to free her from her bonds of slavery. She had then taken to organising the staff straight away, in a way that was adorable rather than arrogant.

The Caliph had put a lot of investment into ensuring the young girl’s happiness, and as a result he had a loyal friend who could not be bought.

“Come and sit with me for a time?” He asked gently.

She smiled again, blowing out her candle and crossing the room. She knelt before him as she had as a child, and, without permission, rested her head against his knees, angling it so that she too could see the stars.

Hugo stroked her hair as he had when she was a small child, and together they counted stars, all the while lending each other strength in these troubled times.


	70. Chapter 70

LXX  
by Beryll

"...so Orlando tried to put him in proper attire and being a nice guy Billy didn't resist. Dominic and I were rolling on the floor with laughter by the time Orlando was done painting him and weaving pretty gold clips into his hair. He just looked hilarious."

Elijah's animated voice conjured a vivid image before Sean's mind's eye. He wasn't able to spend as much time at Viggo' quarters at the moment as he would have liked but to come home every evening to find Elijah in his own room, waiting with dinner and tales of what the kittens had been up to during the day made up for it.

More and more the hard times Elijah had been through lost their grasp on the boy and sometimes Sean noticed with a silent happy grin that Elijah was chattering nearly as lively as Orlando. There were other times when he just needed a quiet cuddle but Sean enjoyed those just as much. He knew he was growing more than fond of the boy but he couldn't bring himself to mind. It was good to feel his heart open this way, to realize that he was still capable of loving.

He was rather sure that Elijah would grow out of his infatuation with him sooner later when his own pain lessened. Then he would probably look for someone closer to his own age but up until then Sean was happy to share his sparse free time with his favourite kitten.

"So I hope you put poor Billy back to his normal self?" Sean asked and took another bite from the peach that served as his dessert this evening.

Elijah nodded. "Yes. I find it amazing that some foreigners seem to fit in with our style of clothing seamlessly, like the Prince, and that others just look too odd, like you or Billy."

Sean shrugged. "I think it comes with the hair colour and with what feels comfortable. If I were to wear robes or those loose pantaloons I think I would look strange simply because I would feel strange." he explained.

Thoughtfully chewing on his lower lip Elijah regarded him for a moment. Then he shrugged. "I can't imagine how you can be comfortable in such tight pants but I guess it's all a matter of tradition and what you are used to." he said. "And of course you look great in them." he then added with a wink that Sean was very sure he had picked up from Jared.

With a fond smile he reached over to caress the cheek of the boy sitting across from him on the bed. "Thanks, kitten." he said, taking the compliment more seriously than Elijah had intended on purpose, making the boy blush.

Before he had a chance to grow even more embarrassed Sean leaned forward and kissed him softly. He delighted in the tiny, mewling noise Elijah made when their lips met and in the fact that Elijah didn't hesitate more than a split second before he met Sean's kiss with the hunger of youth. Quickly their mouth opened to each other's taste. Sean smiled into their kiss as he realized that Elijah was sucking the last traces of the peach's juice from his lips and tongue.

When they came up for air they were both flushed and grinning, rather sure what they would do with the rest their evening.

But then the voice of Prince Viggo broke their intimate encounter. "Sean? Where are you?" the Prince called with obvious excitement. "You won't believe who I have brought!"

The cute frown on Elijah's face probably mirrored Sean's but he quickly schooled his features to polite interest as he answered. "In my room, my lord."

He had no idea who Viggo could possibly have met that would make him sound so happy but his questions were answered quickly as he heard a second voice he hadn't expected ever to hear again.

"This is all yours? Good Freia, Viggo you have fallen on your feet again, haven't you?"

Within a second Sean was on his feet and out the door to find out if his ears were playing tricks on him. Still he even distrusted his eyes when he saw the man standing right next to the peach tree. Tall and broad just like Sean remembered him, wearing the traditional garb of a northerner, complete with a fur cloak that had to be despicably hot in Aqaba's heat. But of course Eric wouldn't leave that cloak behind. After all he had hunted down the bear who had given its life for it himself.

"Eric?" Sean asked, his voice filled with obvious disbelief.

When the huge man turned around there was no way Sean could possibly doubt his identity any longer and his easy smile simply couldn't be imitated. "Sean!" With a few strides the other man came over to Sean and moments later he was wrapped in a hug that was known to have crippled lesser men.

Sean couldn't help but hug Eric back, his heart feeling as if it would burst with the sheer amount of varying emotions. Eric was one of his oldest friends. More than a friend, in fact. He had given up any hope of ever seeing him again when he had left Europe to follow Viggo. He had reconciled himself with the fact that he would have to find new friends and new love. To suddenly be back in this man's arms was confusing, to say the least. He was happy and scared at the same time.

He was still trying to sort his thoughts when Eric was already holding him at arms length studying him.

"Are they not feeding you well, Sean? You look starved!" he announced, sounding none too pleased about it.

"He has been through some hard times." Viggo explained before Sean could come up with an answer that would satisfy Eric and still keep secret what exactly had happened to him during his time as a slave. He certainly wasn't ready to tell Eric about that yet.

He wanted t believe that Eric would not be disgusted when he learned how Sean had been used, that he would not blame Sean but the angry voices of his memory calling him by all the names his tormentors had used were still strong.

"We've all had our share of trouble lately." Viggo continued, referring to his own close brush with death and thoroughly diverting Eric's attention.

"That sounds as if you have some interesting tales of your adventures in this strange land." Eric said, grinning at Viggo. "Tales I definitely want to hear!"

"What are you doing here?" Sean managed a sensible question at last. He already knew the answer before Eric said it, though.

"I'm here as an ambassador for my king to bring the Caliph greeting for his birthday." Eric explained. "My king is looking for a direct trade agreement that will circumvent all the extra fees that the Italian traders charge." Again he looked at Sean and this time the tenderness that Sean knew was reserved for a very few people entered Eric's eyes. "I certainly didn't expect to find you or Viggo here. But I am glad I have."

That tenderness touched and scared Sean at the same time. To trust Elijah who was just a boy and needed protection was easy. But suddenly Eric was too close to him, his hands on Sean's shoulders too confining. His step backwards was to quick and he could see the worry and questions ignite in Eric's eyes before he turned away, unable to bear that look.

"Why don't we show Eric the city?" he asked Viggo, desperately needing something to occupy all of them.

Back north they had spent nights at taverns drinking and sharing tales of past battles. Now one of Aqaba's terrace cafes would have to serve as a substitute for a proper tavern, iced wine would replace cold beer and the tales to share would feature treachery and murder.

Silently Sean vowed that he would take care to stay sober enough to remain silent on his own 'adventures'.

Viggo seemed to pick up on Sean's thoughts as he came over to Sean and Eric, putting one arm around Eric's shoulders, pulling him further away from Sean. "Excellent idea. I haven't really explored the night life of Aqaba yet but I couldn't think of anybody I would rather do it with then the two of you."

"Just like in the old times, eh?" Eric asked, grinning at Viggo and the Prince nodded.

Still the questioning, worried glance that Eric directed at Sean when the three of them left the Prince's quarters did not escape Sean and he knew that sooner or later he would have to answer questions he didn't want to hear.


	71. Chapter 71

LXXI

By Mel

Elijah had never, ever, been this angry before in his life. His time in his father's house had been riddled with uncertainty and fear that anger was a useless emotion. When Ahmed had died, Elijah had been so devastated he could barely think. When he had been given too the Prince his anger had been mixed with confused feelings for Orlando, Sean and finally Viggo. Even the hatred for Dominic he had felt was over shadowed by the blossoming love in his heart for Sean.

Maybe it was because he had never had the chance to be angry before, but when that man had touched Sean, Elijah was shocked. When they had hugged, Elijah felt the first tendrils of fury grow in his belly. When the man had held his Sean at arms length, clasping him like a lover, the fury grew. Finally, when he watched Sean shake off the hands in an unwanted gesture, the anger solidified.

Elijah hated this brash foreigner. Hated him.

Slowly all the boys moved from the rooms where they had been hidden. After the Pirate Captain they had no desire to tempt fate and risk being chosen by another noble or dignitary. They would remain hidden unless Viggo expressly called for them.

Dominic, Billy and Jared emerged from the bathroom, all only half dressed, obvious having just jumped out of the bath when they had heard voices. Orlando looked rumpled and half asleep, which Elijah would have been glad to see in other circumstances. He seemed to finally be catching up on his sleep.

They all moved so they stood beneath the peach tree, the three men gone from the rooms and leaving them to themselves.

"Well he seemed nicer then most," Jared murmured, "where do you suppose he was from?"

"Probably Germany," Dom supplied, running a towel through Billy's hair, "they're interested in trade down this way." Dom scowled at the look the other boys gave him, "what? Just because you don't pay attention, doesn't mean I don't have to. Liv's been talking about travelling dignitaries for days."

"You just wanted to know if any of Viggo's family was coming."

Dom smiled at Billy's accusation. It was amazing how he had come to read him like an open book in the short time they had gotten to know each other. "Possibly."

"Are there?" Orlando asked, intrigued that Dom would have thought to ask. It had obviously never occurred to him that Viggo had more family, and that they could come to see them.

"Not that I could tell, this Eric was the only one from around that area."

"I hate him."

Elijah spoke for the first time, bring the boy's eyes to him. He wasn't looking them, but at the doorway out, where that 'creature' had taken his Sean with him.

The boy's exchanged surprised glances.

"Elijah," Jared prodded gently, "you haven't even met him."

"Did you see the way he touched him?" Elijah hissed. None of them needed to ask who he was talking about. And, though they didn't quiet understand the intense reaction from the youngest member of their troop, they all felt the same urge to protect Sean.

Dom's smile grew sweet, though he looked more like the calculating fox then anything else. "Would you like to do something about it?" Elijah turned his attention to the other boy's sparkling eyes. "We could invite him to dinner tonight, maybe slip something into his food?"

Jared's eyes went wide and he caught Orlando's wrist. "I don't think we should be involved in this."

Dom's face was the picture of innocence, except for his eyes, that were full of mischief. "We wouldn't hurt him, just, make sure he stays away for a while."

Orlando bounced a little, "it sounds like fun, what harm could it do?"

Jared shook his head, "A lot, and I happen to enjoy the current sleeping arrangements thank you. I have no desire to end up sleeping in the slave quarters when the Prince finds out." He looked at the three boys, "and he will find out, especially if you take your little pranks too far. At least I can deny knowledge, so can Orlando."

Orlando opened his mouth to argue, but Jared tugged him towards the bedroom. "I will keep you occupied with a lesson or two." Orlando perked up at that suggestion.

"You, Jared, are a right spoilsport," Dom said dryly.

"No," Jared wagged his finger at them, "if I was a spoilsport, I would stop you completely, or just tell Viggo of your plans." The three boys grinned at him. "Just don't go too far, you could end up upsetting both the Prince and Sean if it does."

"Yes father," Elijah smiled cheekily and Jared rolled his eyes, disappearing behind the curtain with Orlando.

"What did you have in mind?" Billy asked when the other two were gone, secretly excited to be involved in pranks again. It seemed such a long time since he and the other young druids had organised pranks to play on their masters.

"Well," Dom grinned, "I thought we could try-" with that the three boys put their heads together and laughter and giggles could be heard within the rooms.

\---

Liv lifted her head when her name was called, turning her head from the dinner preparations. She didn't really need to be here, but she had a few moments so she ducked in to see the staff and deal quickly with any grievances they may have. She was surprised when her eyes fell on the Prince's newest addition. She left her instructions with one of the cooks before moving to the twitching boy.

"Billy, what are you doing down here? Is everything ok?"

"Everything's fine," the blonde boy moved from foot to foot before adding, "except for Dom."

"What's happened?"

"He says his stomach's upset, and that some of your wonderful remedies would be a big help."

Liv frowned slightly, "perhaps I should check on him, I don't want the rest of you to get sick."

Billy cringed but covered it quickly, "no, really, he should be fine if he could get some, and I promise you I'll come to get you if it doesn't clear up."

Nodding Liv moved to the end of the kitchen, where she stored some basic healing draughts to save her the trip back to her rooms if she was down this way. She chose a green vial, handing it too Billy. "Then I leave it in your hands. Just make sure no one else has this, it makes things very uncomfortable for those who are perfectly fine."

Billy nodded solemnly, bowing slightly, "thanks Liv, you're an angel." Then he was gone.

"Nada?" Liv asked, watching the boy's back. "Is the Prince having dinner tonight?"

"No Miss," she answered, "he and his guard took one of the dignities to see the nightlife of Aqaba, I shouldn't expect them till morning."

Liv grabbed a small satchel of herbs, "can you be sure this finds its way into one of their meals? I get the feeling those boys are up to no good and someone will need these by the end of tomorrow."

"Of course Miss."

\---

"So what was that about?"

Dom asked as Billy went on his little mission. Elijah had calmed down quiet a bit and they both sat in the garden as darkness started to fall. Dom took a moment to lite some candles safe on the pavement around them, settling back so he could look at the other boy who was trying to bury himself in a pillow. Though his relationship with Elijah finally seemed to be going in the right direction there were some things about the other boy he just didn't understand.

"I had thought you would have been happy to meet one of Sean's childhood friends?"

Elijah shook his head into the pillow, "I hate him." The declaration came out muffled against the pillow. "I hate the way he touches Sean, like he thinks he understands him. Like they've had something so special. Like he knows Sean in a way I don't. Like-" Elijah floundered suddenly, before a choked sob escaped from the pillow. "Like he could take Sean away from me."

Dom gently stroked Elijah's hair. He had guessed somewhere along the way Elijah had gotten jealous with the tall European man. After all, he was Sean's friend before everything had happened here. He had probably been part of Sean's, and the Prince's, life for much longer then Elijah had been alive. And he had touched Sean in the way a lover would. He hadn't, however, banked on Elijah feeling like he was going to be tossed aside.

"You need to have a little more faith in Sean."

Slowly a small, sad face peaked up at him from the pillow and Dom smiled at him. "Sean would never leave you, he loves you, anyone can see that. Trust him not to leave you behind, alright?"

Elijah nodded, sniffed loudly, before saying, "I still hate him."

"I know," Dom smiled.


	72. Chapter 72

LXXII  
by Beryll

Viggo had woken up somewhere around lunchtime with the kind of pounding headache you only got when you had spent the night drinking with your friends in some smoky tavern. It had been a very satisfying feeling. Especially as it was accompanied by the fact that he was all alone in the huge bed - his kittens long since awake - and he new full well that they had allowed him to sleep way too long. He had missed several important appointments already and he didn't care at all. Having friends to hang out with was much more important.

The rest of the day had passed with various tasks Viggo had only given half of his attention as the dull throbbing in the back of his head hadn't really left and he his mind had been occupied with reviewing the night he had spent with Eric and Sean.

The mere fact that Eric had really, truly shown up at the palace out of the blue still boggled Viggo's mind. When he had first seen him walk down a palace corridor he had considered him and apparition, conjured by his wishful thinking but Eric had turned out real and solid soon enough when Viggo called his name.

He knew Eric since they had all three been boys when Eric's father had been an ambassador at Viggo's father's court. Back then Sean and Eric had been best friends taking the younger prince along as it was Sean's duty to watch out for Viggo. He had probably been an annoying pest but the two older boys had almost always been patient.

Viggo had never even considered that there might have been more than friendship between the two of them but last night's drinking let him wonder. The many worried glances Eric had had for Sean could be explained with friendship but the way Eric had been seeking closeness to Sean the drunker he got could not.

Sean had been drinking a lot less than Eric and Viggo and he had skilfully evaded all of Eric's advances. Viggo wasn't entirely sure if that was because Sean was now with Elijah or because of what had happened to him. Probably a bit of both.

He knew Eric well enough to be sure that he wouldn't just give up on Sean. Whatever had been between them would have to be resolved and Viggo had spent the day wondering if he should interfere.

Sean was improving rapidly and Viggo didn't want to see him lose what stability he had gained because of Eric. He didn't want to lose Eric's company either so he was in a dilemma. In the end he ha decided to watch them interact some more and only act if it became necessary as Sean probably wouldn't thank him anyway for trying to protect him.

When he got back to his quarters he had been planning to spend a quiet evening curled up with Orlando and whatever kitten wanted to join them - but as soon as he entered he knew that plan was cancelled.

The courtyard was lit be countless oil lamps and the two fireplaces were burning as well, painting the walls with dancing shadows. Pillows had been heaped in a rough circle between the two fireplaces and inside that circle a feast that would feed half a company was spread. The soft scent of sandalwood rose from two large braziers burning left and right of the archway that led to the garden.

Elijah and Jared were busy rearranging the pillows while Orlando and Dom rushed over to Viggo as soon as he came in - both of them beaming excitedly, making Viggo feel slightly overrun - and in Dom's case a bit suspicious.

"Master!" he was greeted by Orlando, who was once more acting completely out of turn, hugging Viggo fiercely before he bowed properly and then settled on bouncing on the tips of his feet. "Would you like a bath before our guest arrives?"

All of the kittens were dressed up with their finest clothes and for the first time Viggo truly noticed what an exotic mix he had with them. Exotic and very, very pretty. Each of them was a rare beauty in his own way and Viggo couldn't help but wonder what he had done to deserve them.

"Guest?" he managed to ask.

Orlando bobbed up and down. "Yes. The foreigner you spent the night with. We wanted to meet him too so we invited him."

"Well... we took the liberty of assuming that you would have invited him yourself if you had had the time to think on such trivial matters." Dom explained, poking Orlando in the ribs for his lack of decorum.

Viggo couldn't help but grin. Kittens were curious creatures. He should have expected as much after not introducing Eric to them properly and Viggo certainly wouldn't mind introducing all of his precious kittens to his long time friend.

"Do I have the time for a bath?" Viggo asked, smiling at Orlando, "everything looks ready."

Orlando glanced over to where Elijah and Jared were done with their last preparations. Jared gave Viggo a shy smile but Elijah's brow wore a frown that Viggo had only seen on his face before when the boy had been very, very angry. Something bothered him, Viggo was sure of that.

He was about to open his mouth to ask Orlando about it, when his favourite kitten grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the bathroom already.

"Of course." Orlando exclaimed. "Wouldn't want you to smell, would we now? The others can keep our guest busy. And Sean's not back yet either. So nothing to worry about."

And then they were through the curtain leading to the bathroom and Orlando used the opportunity of being out of view from the other kittens to wrap himself around Viggo and show him how much he had missed his master, thoroughly erasing Viggo's worries about Elijah.

\---

It had sounded like a good idea when Dom had first laid out his plan to play a prank on the foreigner who had upset Elijah so. Billy had been too caught up in the feeling of having friends his own age to consider the possible consequences - like he should have.

He could hear his old master's voice in the back of his head, scolding him for his carelessness.

But it really was too late now.

Things had started to go wrong when the foreigner - Eric - had arrived. By the way he and Sean greeted each other Billy had immediately realized that there was a deep and lasting friendship between the two of them and that whatever Elijah saw in Eric - enemy, rival, danger - hating him would just distance Elijah more from Sean, not help him regain his lover's attention.

Billy had tried to draw Lij aside to tell him so but for his efforts he had been hissed at first by Elijah, who was possessively clinging to Sean's arm and then by Dom who didn't want Billy to ruin his prank.

Then there was the fact that Orlando had taken an immediate liking to Eric when the man showered him with compliments not only about his beauty but - much more importantly - on what a good care Orlando was taking of Viggo.

Elijah had looked green with jealously. His emotions had drifted through the room so noisily that Billy could hear them without even listening to the 'other side'.

To make matters worse Dom's prank had gone as wrong as it possibly could, the drinks getting mixed up and Sean ending up with the one they had 'spiced'.

Sean had withdrawn 'not feeling well', rejecting both Elijah's and Eric's offers to tug him into bed. So Elijah had spent the rest of dinner brooding in silence while Eric was busy flirting with Orlando - and when they got drunk enough - with the Prince as well. Dom had looked like he had swallowed a toad, extremely unhappy with his lack of success, Jared had given all of them very adult 'told you so' looks that hadn't helped at all.

At last the gods had shown mercy with Eric and Orlando dragging the Prince towards the bedroom to 'show him a few tricks'. 

Again Billy had tried to grab Elijah but before he'd had the chance Dom had pulled him aside to angrily enquire why he hadn't taken better care who the spiced drink ended up with. Their quiet argument had quickly turned into angry shoves and finally it had been Jared who separated them.

By that time Elijah had already disappeared towards Sean's quarters and all three of them had decided not to disturb the boy, hoping that he would work out his problems on his own.

Though Billy had sworn silently that he would intervene should Elijah's mood not improve quickly.

He had no doubt that Sean loved Elijah. Maybe he just needed to be told that Elijah needed to hear that spoken aloud now and then.


	73. Chapter 73

LXXIII

by Mel

When Eric had received word that both Viggo and Sean had entered the desert, he had fallen apart. He had been in France at the time and had received the frantic letter from one of Viggo’s younger sisters. By the time he had gotten back to Denmark, the trail had been long cold. It had been his father’s idea, upon hearing one of the Caliphs within the Arabian desert would be celebrating his birthday shortly, that it was high time they started among friendly terms with their southern neighbours.

Viggo was his closet friend, the young prince had always been a part of his life. Though, as a kid, Viggo had been an annoyance, the older the boys had gotten, the closer Eric felt to him. Soon, without even meaning to, Eric had taken it upon himself to look after Viggo. Even when he was taken far from him, Eric often defended Viggo, though he was sure the Prince had never heard of it. Eric had gotten quiet the reputation that if anyone sullied Viggo’s name they would find themselves at the wrong end of his sword.

Sean had always been his brother in arms. Though he had met Viggo first, he had been unable to shake the ‘little brother’ feel the boy had exuded, Sean became his first real friend. Being only a year apart in age they shared everything, with Viggo tagging along as a little brother would. They had gotten in and out of trouble in their younger years, always managing to keep Viggo blameless throughout their ordeals. A few years past and Viggo became a fast friend as well, they had gone to battle with each other, had been there when they had killed their first men, their first kisses, loves, dreams and hurts. Though Eric went away often as they got older, no place felt more like home then Viggo’s laugh and Sean’s tender smile.

It had been almost inevitable that he and Sean had become lovers.

Eric knew he couldn’t take Viggo’s place in Sean’s heart. The man had always been smitten with the boy. Eric could never blame him, he had never met a man who had not fallen in love with Viggo on first sight, but the first time they had shared a kiss, Eric had felt used. A substitute for the one he could never have.

Of course, it hadn’t take Eric long to realise, if chosen, Sean’s love was boundless, and he had chosen Eric to share part of his heart. He learnt to not dread the day Sean finally told Viggo his feelings, but long for it. His friends asked for so little in life, he wanted them to have at least this. Eric knew his place in their hearts had been secured long ago, it was something that would never be lost.

So to get here, finding them both alive, well and together had been a delight. Eric had feared, after hearing they had not left together, he would have to search for the men separately. He had scolded Viggo good naturedly about leaving without him, before filling him in quickly about his family. Viggo may not be on the best of terms with his father, but he did get along with most of his siblings. They told him things that had happened in their travels. Sean, surprisingly, kept silent about what had happened to him, though was quiet lively about explaining about Viggo’s ‘kittens’.

It had been hard to stomach, but for the first time in his life, Eric knew Sean was keeping something important from him.

Eric knew better then to push, but it was hard to ignore the flinches every time he touched Sean. He bit the inside of his cheek and, during dinner with the kittens, managed to keep his hands off Sean. At least the youngest one appeared to have Sean’s attention. The gentle care Sean showed around him was obvious, though the way the boy clung to him must have been uncomfortable.

The boy’s were beautiful, which both Sean and Viggo had neglected to tell him the night before. Each different, exotic from the meek blue eyed Jared to the laid back Billy, Eric could see why Viggo had not been able to say no to keeping them.

It was Orlando who stole the show though.

The boy was everything Sean and Viggo had been in their younger years. Wide eyed and in awe of the world around him, as well as fiercely protective of those who had a place in his beautiful heart. It was Orlando who let him in on the fact that Viggo had almost died a few weeks before. Viggo refused to meet his gaze and Eric wisely kept his mouth shut, but he would be having heated words with his little brother later.

Though the boy obvious head over heels for Viggo, Eric was delighted that he flirted with him during the night. Jared and Billy were both polite, but indifferent, and Dom and Elijah were surprisingly hostile. Sean, well, Sean was himself as much as one could be when keeping a secret. Viggo was drunk, which was wonderful, because not only was Orlando practically all over him, but the alcohol loosened his tongue enough that the first time since Eric had known him, Viggo flirted back with him.

It had taken Eric a while to come to the conclusion that he was indeed attracted to his ‘little brother’. It had taken even longer to stop feeling like a dirty old man whenever he found himself glancing at the other man in more then a friendly way. But Eric had made his peace with that a lot sooner then he knew Sean would. Viggo was no longer the gangly youth he’d known. None of them were. They were all men now, and though he would always love Viggo like a little brother, there was nothing wrong with loving him like he did Sean.

Orlando had been persuaded to come try the mead Eric drank. Eric always made sure to have a barrel or two with him, for occasions such as these. He knew how to handle mead, the honey drink was what he’d grown on, and what he knew his limits with. Orlando had, of course, never heard of the northern drink and had lots of questions about it. It didn’t take Eric too long to convince him to try it. And when he reached out for it, Eric drew his hand back, making the boy reach for it.

Orlando was simply adorable when he was frustrated and it was all Eric could do to keep from laughing. With one last, loud, effort he reached for the glass, following as Eric brought it far out of his reach and tumbling into Eric’s lap. Both Eric and Viggo roared with laughter, making Orlando blush and demand not to be laughed at. With Sean already safely tucked away in bed Eric smiled winningly, pushing the curls from the boy’s beautiful face. He huffed, a might indignant and went to move, when Eric wrapped an arm protectively around his waist.

“I think I like you right where you are, little pussy cat.”

There was a delightful little shiver that ran up Orlando’s body, throwing Eric’s body into overdrive. It had been a while since he had been with anyone, his search for Sean and Viggo had taken much of his time and thoughts. Eric, when he took on a lover, would put his whole soul into it, which was hard to do when your best friends were missing. But now everything was all right, they weren’t hurt, or dead, Eric felt relaxed and the burden fell from his shoulders.

With the mead and wine buzzing around, Viggo’s seducing eyes and the lovely boy on his lap, Eric truly let go. He stroked Orlando’s hip with his thumb, ducking his head a little to bury his noes in the boy’s curls, breathing in the smell. Orlando squirmed, a panted whimper on his breath. Eric was glad that Jared had the attention of the other boy’s as his fingers ducked beneath the waist band of the pants, teasing the flesh gently.

Viggo watched him, clear eyes boring into Eric. Eric met the gaze calmly. It almost made Eric smile when he realised it wasn’t jealousy, but envy in those eyes. Smiling inwardly he wondered who Viggo was most envious of, the boy, or himself. Gently kissing the curved junction between the boy’s shoulder and throat he trailed the warm kisses to his ear.

“Look at your master,” the words were whispered in his ear, hands still stroking teasingly against his flesh. Orlando’s eyes parted, making Eric chuckle against his ear. What a sight they must be, Orlando draped in his lap, head resting against Eric’s shoulder, tilted so his lips could easily caress his neck. His bedroom eyes partly open, both their eyes watching Viggo hungrily with Eric’s fingers dancing mad circles against his hip, delving ever closer to its prize.

“Wouldn’t it be nice of him to join us?” Eric asked, still whispering, “I’m sure he wants to have you right now. The both of us. I bet there are some lovely tricks we could teach him. Wouldn’t that be... nice?” Eric bit down on Orlando’s ear after his last word, making the boy arch against him and Eric moaning hungrily as he ground against his growing arousal.

Eric was learning quickly that Orlando was a boy of action, and putting an idea in his head would no doubt goad him into action every time. Eric barely had a moment before Orlando was out of his lap, descending on Viggo. Viggo, who hadn’t heard the whispered conversation. was surprised with an armful of Orlando, kissing him breathlessly. It was, however, gone just as suddenly, and Orlando was dragging him into standing impatiently.

Eric followed a little slower; poor Viggo had no idea the amorous kitten Eric had thrown into his hands, but he was certain it was well deserved.

“Sweet dreams, kittens,” Eric smiled, bowing to the remaining boys in the room. He got tentative smiles from Jared and Billy, but full blown hostility from Elijah and Dominic. The last time anyone had looked at Eric like that was when he had killed a noble’s brother. But Eric had never had to deal with that man again, the boys he would be likely seeing a lot more of. That sort of bad blood would not go down well, and he’d hate to put Viggo and Sean in the position of dealing with the fall out of the boy’s aggression.

Still, it was far too late to worry about it now, and he didn’t want to make Sean feel any worse then he already did. So he wandered from the room, following Orlando’s breathless laughter and putting Elijah and Dominic to the back of his mind. He would worry about them when there was something he could actually do about it. For now, he would enjoy the company of his best friend and the young man he was so attached to.

The bedroom was lit with a dozen large candles and the pair hadn’t quiet made it to the bed. They stood in front of it, bathed in firelight, olive and pale skin glistening. Orlando’s fingers were deftly untying his shirt, pushing it from Viggo’s shoulders. They kissed, heatedly, Viggo’s lips claiming Orlando’s, their tongues dancing. In all the time Eric had known him, he had never seen Viggo like this, and the site took his breath away.

He cradled the younger man too his body, kissing him like he knew he deserved to be kissed. His arms were wrapped around him and Orlando’s hands stroked his chest gently. He watched as they moved slowly, so that Viggo sat on the bed, feet dangling over above the floor, the bed was very large.

With the heat pooling in his groin, Eric knew he would not be satisfied with simply watching for much longer. As if hearing his thoughts, the kiss broke and both men looked at him. Eric smile, instead of being pinned by the chocolate and sapphire gaze, he revelled in it, stripping the shirt from his body. They watched, Eric’s body was flawless, trimmed, toned and battle scarred, he worked hard on it. His father may require a diplomat, but he was a warrior first. As the shirt came up over his head he moved, prowling towards the other men on the bed.

Orlando was gorgeous. The boy was obviously no warrior, but there was not a scrap of fat on his body, and his long slim figure looked positively sinful in those scarlet pantaloons that didn’t quiet hide his body from view. He had kohl rimmed around his lids like the painted street whores Eric knew from Egypt, but with none of the cynicism. No, Orlando’s eyes were amused and aroused, no hint of the harshness the rest of the world felt. It was refreshing to see, it was something Eric knew he wanted to protect.

Viggo was thinner then he should be, Eric thought with a prang of regret, no doubt still healing from his recent brush with death. His dear little friend didn’t look more in need of protection then he did right now. Eric swore that he would not leave Viggo’s side for anything, that neither he, nor Sean, would have to fight on their own any more.

Letting those thoughts wash over him, Eric smiled at the two men, walking forward the two of them. Orlando reached out his hand, which Eric took, bringing the hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles. Grinning Orlando pulled him closer, pulling him flush against his back, the taller man’s arms winding around his waist. Fingertips brushed Viggo as he did, enticing a small gasp from the other man. But there was no denying the hungry look in his old friend’s eyes.

Eric shifted, ducking his head a little to meet Viggo’s lips with his own. There was a little awkwardness as Viggo’s breath hitched, but Eric didn’t move away and with a growl lips parted and he finally got the chance to taste the man he had longed to. The mead that Viggo had shared made his lips sweet and Eric moaned, licking the taste from them. Viggo shivered, Eric couldn’t tell quiet from, as at the same time Orlando began to nuzzle his neck, fingers slowly removing his clothing.

Between the two of them Viggo was soon naked, his practically prone body pushed gently against the sheets, moaning gently. Eric lay next to him, discovering the delights of his friend’s beautiful mouth. One hand was threaded in Orlando’s curls as he made his way down Viggo’s body. The boy was good judging by Viggo’s soft groans that melted into Eric’s lips. Still, when the boy’s mouth breathed over his clothed arousal he couldn’t stop the answering groan.

“Orlando’s been practicing,” Viggo whispered, breaking the heavy kiss. “Jared’s been teaching them.”

Eric moaned, hand stroking the boy’s scalp. “Has he made love to you yet?” The silence was really all the answer that Eric needed and he smiled. “I think I’d like to see that.”

“I couldn’t,” Orlando lifted his head, eyes worried. “I’ve never-“

Viggo made a soft noise, gently pulling Orlando up the bed so he rested on top of his body, his hands gently caressing his beloved kitten’s face. “There is nothing I would not have you share with me Orlando. I’d like you inside me tonight.”

“It’s ok, little one,” Eric stroked his back, pressing his lips gently to the boy’s temple. “We’ll help you.”

The boy nodded nervously and both men gently kissed him, slowly removing his clothing. They talked to him, easing him, the nervousness slowly leaving his frame as they touched him. He gasped gently as Eric moved him, kneeling behind him as he coated Orlando’s fingers in oil. It took time, coaxing and promises from both men before Orlando was urged to push the fingers into Viggo, stretching the other man.

Eric kissed him, hands stroking the boy’s sides, calming him. He was nervous, Eric could feel it through his whole body, but he gasped when his hand closed around Orlando’s arousal. It was all he could do too touch him lightly as a hungry moan escaped Orlando’s lips. Viggo watched them, blue eyes hypnotic as Orlando’s head fell against Eric’s shoulder, lips grazing his neck. Eric watched Viggo, seeing all his own feelings reflected in those eyes.

Gently they both guided Orlando forward, pressing him against the opening. All three men groaned as he pushed forward, hands falling either side of Viggo’s body. The Prince leant up, capturing his lips, his legs going around his hips, pulling his kitten further into him. Eric pushed him slowly from behind, keeping a steady pace, only pausing when Orlando lay flush against Viggo. Both men groaned.

“Move,” Viggo whispered impatiently, body shifting, or but forcing Orlando to move.

Eric’s stroking hand stopped them both, slick fingers brushing against Orlando’s entrance. “Wait, it will get better.”

Orlando moaned, withering against the invading finger. “Hurry,” he panted breathlessly, “I can’t stay still for long.”

Eric smiled, leaning over to talk directly into Orlando’s ear, though his eyes were on Viggo. “He feels good doesn’t he? The best thing you have ever felt?” Orlando whimpered as two fingers brushed his prostate, his hips bucking and dragging a tortured sound from Viggo. Three fingers and Eric could feel his control slipping, his lips mouthing at the arched throat before him. “It is only going to get better little Kitten.”

With that he moved, taking the boy’s hips in his hands and sinking into him. It was slow, intoxicating, and he took his time. The Kitten keened beneath him, all but collapsing on top of Viggo, giving way to the slow ministrations of the two men who held him. Eric groaned when he filled Orlando completely, rotating his hips slightly, stretching the tightness a little more.

“By Allah above, Eric, if you don’t move I’ll-“ Viggo cut off with a strangled moan as Eric thrust hard into Orlando, pushing the prone boy into Viggo. With a gasp Orlando clung to Viggo, his lips finding the Prince’s, devouring him.

Eric’s pace was brutal, the boy was tight, and watching the two men kiss beneath him broke what little control the man had left. He through himself into the boy beneath him, feeling him tighten even further around him. Lifting Viggo’s legs, he placed them over Orlando’s shoulders, changing the angle, watching, panting as Viggo hands clung uselessly to Orlando’s back. Dragging his fingers down the flesh, leaving vivid red streaks. The sound their Prince made beneath them left nothing to the imagination, Eric was certain the boy was hitting his mark with practically every thrust.

With the hitching sound in Orlando’s breathing Eric knew the boy was not far off, none of them were. Focusing on the boy mad things easier, but when he looked up, drowning in Viggo’s eyes, he couldn’t stop, thrusting harder into Orlando, the boy’s wail threading with his own howl as he came, filling Orlando as he filled Viggo.

Falling to the bed, both in a slight daze, Viggo groaned. “Please, don’t leave me.”

Eric smiled, laughter falling from his lips, as he moved, shifting Orlando, still buried in the Prince, and took him between his lips. It was awkward, with Orlando’s dead weight lying half on them, but it didn’t stop Eric, who swallowed half the shaft, groan reverberating along it as Viggo clung to his hair, crying out his name as he too came.

Three sated men shifted around, Viggo ensuring the young man stayed deep within him. The blush that stained the boy’s cheeks when Viggo whispered he wanted to fall asleep with his Kitten still inside him was worth it. They kissed for long, desperate moments, cuddled around each other, before sleep claimed them all.


	74. Chapter 74

LXXIV  
by Beryll

The sounds of the place were alien and annoying in Karl's ears. The ring of his boots on the stone floor of the high hallway leading up to the throne room seemed almost muffled to him. Of course it really was the constant chatter and movement of people that was so much louder with so many guests inhabiting the palace. It drowned out the familiar sounds.

It made Karl nervous. It felt crippling - not to be able to tell by familiar sounds, by the simple "feel" of the palace if everything was as it should be. He was beginning to see hostile shadows behind every column. And the festivities were only just getting started.

This morning the parade of the guests had begun. In an endless procession they were presenting their gifts to the Caliph. Having started with the lowliest peasants around the city it would finish soon, right before the grant banquet this evening, with the audience for the dignitary the Sultan himself had sent. And the Caliph was presiding over this with a benevolent smile and seemingly endless patience.

Karl had watched the proceedings for several hours this morning from his place at the Caliph's side. When he had started to fidget nervously the Caliph had kindly sent him away to check on the security of the palace. Of course they both knew the palace was perfectly secure. After all Karl, Ian and Sean had spent many nights making sure the celebration would run smoothly. It was an excuse allowing Karl a respite and Karl was grateful for it. Now he was back to stand beside the Caliph when he received the gifts of mighty neighbours, far away rulers and the Sultan.

Karl was expected to be there as the Caliph's guards Captain. But he might have skipped the duty if i hadn't been for the fact that he had left the barracks when Sean had showed up there, looking nearly as unnerved as Karl had felt earlier.

Prince Viggo was still new to the court and had nearly as many guests to entertain as the Caliph himself. People who wanted to meet him, who wanted to find out what kind of man - friend or foe - he was. If he could be of use to them and how. That meant the intricate dance of politics.

Karl knew that Sean didn't have much patience for political talk - much like Karl himself. Under better circumstances they might have stood on the battlements together, bemoaning the lack of action and the abundance of empty polite phrases.

But the frosty enmity between them crystallized into a gulf that Karl felt bitterly certain could never be bridged again.

Lately things had been even worse - at least for him.

The old comrade of arms of both Sean and Viggo who had arrived from the North seemed as close as a brother to them. To see them laugh and talk together hurt Karl on a level where he had thought old scar tissue had long blocked any feeling whatsoever. He could not bear to see the easy friendship they shared. To hear them talk with a million reverences to past adventures shared. Even had be not alienated himself from them so completely by his atrocious acts - he could never have hoped to share in such a long grown closeness.

So Karl had quickly fled the barracks when Sean had entered with the foreigner.

He had reached the antechamber of the throne room now. Here the hallway opened up, with columns on both sides. Stone benches and huge potted palm trees offered resting places for people waiting for audience and usually managed to give the place the feel of a quiet garden. But right now it was packed with people waiting for the turn before the Caliph, all talking and shuffling incessantly.

Karl's path would have had him take a sharp turn to the left right after he entered the chamber to follow a much smaller corridor that circled around the throne room. He would have entered through small door at the back of the throne room to take his place to the right of the Caliph again.

His eyes only briefly swept the antechamber - a Captain's quick scan for anything amiss, not expecting to find anything.

He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes were drawn to a broad back, wrapped in colourful cloth, powerful arms and hands, one resting leisurely on the hilt of a huge scimitar, the other gesturing, a bald head, tattooed with intricate patterns bobbing with whatever he was saying. Karl could not make out the words over the general din but the booming voice...

The back, the arms, the weapon, even the voice might have belonged to someone else, only close to the original but close enough to make Karl' fear rush up like a wave of scorching heat. But the tattoos - they were unique, each telling a story of conquest known to Karl. They were as familiar to Karl as the back of his own hand.

Too often these tattoos had been the last thing he had seen after a beating, the sight of his father turning away in disappointment yet again. Something he had hoped to have forever left behind, something he had seen in his dreams more and more often lately - something that should have had n place here and now.

For a long, long moment he stood frozen in place shock grasping his heart, threatening to crush it. Questions flashing in his mind with the sting of angry bees.

Why was he here?

How had he gained admission to the palace of the Caliph - lowly slave trader that he was?

Did he know Karl was here?

Did he know Sean was here?

What would he do?

Why was he here?

A shudder ran through Karl as he realized he had not yet been seen. His father was still talking. Karl's every instinct demanded he flee, run as fast and as far as he possibly could. But just forcing one foot to lift was hard, impossibly hard. Step by slow step he moved towards the smaller hallway, to safety, his eyes glued to the back of his father's head.

Finally the bright light of the antechamber changed to the unobtrusive shadow of the corridor, finally he was hidden. Even here servants and slaves rushed to and fro, serving refreshments for the waiting guests, delivering messaged, carrying out various tasks. None paid any attention to Karl who sagged against the cool wall, his breath suddenly ragged.

He was here and surely he was here for a reason. To find Karl? Why would he bother after all those years? He was still waiting for his audience with the Caliph so he must be an emissary. For someone important, someone not to be messed with. Just a coincidence that he was here then?

So Karl could remain hidden.

Sean must not see him or surely he would snap. Then Prince Viggo would know. And Karl would be dragged into it. Blood would be shed. And Karl would be exposed. Everything would be exposed. They would learn that it was Sean's father who had so tormented Sean. They would know nothing but disgust for him then.

That must not happen.

He had to keep it secret.

Had to keep Sean and his father apart.

Had to remain hidden...

White-hot hatred lanced through Karl as unbidden images rose in his mind: Sean crying and clawing at his own flesh in his arms. Imagines of his father's brutal hands, holding Sean down, bruising, merciless, inflicting pain. A much smaller, much younger body in Karl's arms, bloodied, loved beyond reason - and beyond saving, beyond pain at last. The sneer on his father's face.

It burned, burned Karl to his core as he remembered the boy, who had sworn hopeless revenge then. The boy who had been him.

He had grown so much stronger, had worked so hard, had become a warrior, renowned and feared - and still he was helpless in his father's grasp?

In the furnace of his rage one clear question shone:

What did he have to lose now?

Sean's and Viggo's friendship and trust? He had forfeit that.

What would happen if they learned his father was here, if they learned who he was and what he had done?

Their fury would not be bound by fear of any political backlash. They truly were men of honor and would slay his father like the dog he was.

So they might learn of his shame. So he might be cast out by the Caliph, a dishonored man.

But was that not worth knowing that his oath had been fulfilled? To be free of his father's shadow at last.

He had not even noticed he had started walking again, his feet carrying him where he had not dared treat since Sean had banned him from Viggo's presence.

He had to tell them, had to confess. And after that everything was in Allah's hands.


	75. Chapter 75

LXXV  
By Mel

The Caliph’s birthday was as chaotic as the kittens had predicted. Viggo had purposely kept them in the shadows, allowing only Billy and Jared to serve him officially. Billy would be able to sense any magic use and general discontent on those presented before him. Jared could keep his head during unwanted advances and was surprisingly politicly savvy enough to diffuse a tense situation with a few, well chosen words.

It left Elijah, Orlando and Dominic to deal directly with the servants as they brought food too and from, with requests from dignitaries to see Viggo and handling the multitude of gifts that seemed to swarm around the new Prince. For a moment Orlando wished he could be cuddling at Viggo’s side like he’d seen other Lord’s vapid consorts doing. But then he remembered that being the perfect little slave was a revolting thought and would settle quiet happily for making the older man laugh.

Eric and Sean had come and gone a few times. Though Eric seemed at ease, flirting shamelessly with the three of them hidden in the wings only to turn and greet someone quiet formally, Sean seemed a little green. Too many people Eric told him. Elijah had taken him aside, murmured appropriately soothing words and fed him tea, all the while glaring murderously at Eric.

Orlando thought Eric handled the glares quiet well, by ignoring them. Instead, he told tales about the gifts the Caliph had received so far.

“An emissary from the east brought him yards of pure silk in any colour you can imagine. The Caliph could have a different outfit for every day of the year,” Eric’s eyes smiled as he talked. “With a different turban to match.”

“We are busy,” Elijah stressed quietly, the line of his lips thin. “Perhaps you could-“

“Oh my!” Whilst they were kept out of the way they still had a clear view from the court yard into where Viggo was entertaining. Liv stood at the door, looking beautiful, if a little harried. In her hands was a light, gold chain, and sitting demurely at her feet was a lion cub.

Orlando had only seen lion cubs from the sidelines of processions, and mostly in cages or with handlers and whips. He forgot his half finished tray, and the dignity that Viggo was finishing with, dashing out towards the adorable creature.

Its fur was on the darker shade of gold, brushed till it shone, with paws that should have been too big for its little body and a tail that had a few freckles at the tip. Blue eyes watched Orlando wearily as he fell to his knees before it, making soft cooing noises.

“Can I touch it?”

Liv smiled despite herself. Run off her feet the last thing she had wanted to do was deliver this gift to the Prince. Yet, with all hands already full and she the only one pausing at the time, the duty had fallen to her. “Yes, you can pet him, be gentle though. He’s said to be remarkably tame, but he’s still a wild animal.”

“Does he have a name?” Dominic had ventured out behind Orlando, intrigued despite himself. The dignitary left quietly, the Kitten’s given a small reprieve from their duties to look at the small animal. Orlando held his hand out slowly, letting the little creature sniff it delicately then nudge his fingers for a pet.

“His name is Dave, the Caliph thought you would have more use for such a gift,” the teasing light in her eyes drew a smile to Viggo’s lips. He knew that the cub was really a gift to his Kittens as well as Liv did. She passed the chain to Jared, the most reliable looking of the boys, and took her leave, hoping to be able to find time to sit for a moment before she was needed again.

The childhood friends shared a smile as Orlando carefully lifted the cub up, rubbing noses with the docile little creature.

“Please tell me we have a few moments between people for just ourselves?” Eric touched Viggo’s shoulder lightly. Another grin that reaches his tired eyes, the touch lingered and reminded them both of more exciting things they could be doing.

Elijah scowled his way even harder, making Eric withdraw his hand with a sigh. Was there anyone in this room he could be friendly with without ruffling the blue eyed boy’s feathers? Viggo looked confused for a moment but Jared was bringing the lion cub to him for a pet, the rest of the kittens trailing along behind, waiting for their turn to cuddle or pet it.

“There isn’t anyone else until after dinner,” Dominic sighed, relaxing into the cushions. “You will both have to make an appearance, but wont be required to stay for the whole meal. We made sure you only have to see one Lord after dinner as well, you’re day tomorrow is already quiet full.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home?” Eric teased both Sean and Viggo with a smile. “You only have to marry a noble lady, produce a few heirs, all the hunting you could want. Not the endless politics or death threats. You and Sean could travel with me a bit-“

“Why would they want to go with you?”

Elijah stood, his hands balled into fists, glaring at the man beside the Prince. Whispering poison ideas into his master’s ears. Into Sean’s ears.  
“He’s only teasing, Lij,” Orlando whispered, reaching for his friend’s hand.

“You come in here with your stories and you touch-“ my sean. Elijah floundered slightly, trying to put it all into words. Trying to make it come out. “Sprouting stupid ideas of leaving.”

He’s going to take Sean away. 

“I hate the way-“

“Elijah!”

Sean rarely raised his voice, and certainly never to one of them. And never to Elijah. His eyes narrowed a little, a bit angry, but mostly confused.

“Apologise to Eric. You should know better then to talk to anyone like that. Especially my friend.”

There was silence as Elijah’s eyes widened, staring at Sean. Anguish written all over his young face.

Eric moved to stand, but Elijah was already turning, running, tripping over his own feet in a mad dash to make it out the door. Getting away. Eric shot Sean a disapproving look but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t the first time that Sean’s complete obliviousness had hurt someone.

“Let him have some time to himself,” Viggo said as Jared and Orlando both made to go after him. “He’ll come home when he’s ready.”

Settling unhappily the boys turned their attention to the gift, playing with the cub. Viggo snagged Billy’s attention.

“My Lord?” he asked softly, sitting on the other side.

“Is my new pet safe with them?”

There wasn’t any need to explain what he was really asking.

“As safe as any live animal is with them. I sense no magical enchantments or curses on him. Other then being well trained, there’s nothing special about this cub,” Billy smiled. “Well, unless you count its ability to be hugged by Orlando and coming out unharmed.”

“Maybe I could ask him for some pointers,” Viggo said with a laugh. “He has that affect on people doesn’t he?”

“It’s something special,” Eric added, “that he can have this whole room in love, in lust and wanting to protect him without actually realising it. It would be a fearsome asset if he ever noticed. Who is the shadow in the doorway?”

“What is he doing here?” Viggo hissed standing.

“Karl!” Orlando was on his feet, a smile in his eyes as he noticed the Captain in the doorway. Jared stiffened in fear, the reaction prompting Dominic to move and he straightens up in response, moving so he’s slightly in front of their teacher.

“Did the Caliph finally let you come and visit us?”

Sean moved to just behind Jared, one arm wrapped firmly around the young man’s waist. Eric watches, fascinated, he hasn’t seen Viggo and Sean in such a state for many years. He doesn’t have to think to hard on what this man could have done to spark such a reaction. His own hand moves to his sword, easily in arms reach out of habit.

“Karl?” Orlando looks up into the face of the man he grew up with. “What’s wrong? Are you all right? Did something happen? You’re so pale-“

“Get Out.”

There’s a slightly rough hand of Viggo’s on his shoulder and Orlando’s alarmed by the venom in his voice. He looks around, at everyone huddled a little around Jared, at the murderous fury in Viggo and Sean’s eyes. The hand pulls him away from Karl and he looks at the Captain, at the way he shakes. At the fear that eats away at the man that Orlando knows.

“You’re not welcome here.”

Viggo’s anger is barely contained. Orlando knew there was very little that was keeping him from attacking Karl.

“What’s going on?” Orlando manages, “Karl, what’s happened?” He doesn’t understand. Karl is his friend, weren’t he and his Lord friend’s too?

“I,” Karl tries to speak, his voice strained, trembling.

“Leave here, now.”

“Karl?”

He turned quickly, leaving, Orlando watching for a moment before wrenching himself from Viggo’s hold, making to go after him.

“Leave him, I wont have him hurting you too,” Viggo snarled.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Orlando stared at the Prince, “but Karl would never, ever, hurt me. Something’s wrong with him, my lord, he’s scared of something. I can’t leave him.”

“Orlando-“

“How can you just let him go when he’s hurt?” Orlando breathed, staring in disbelief at the two men who were supposed to be Karl’s friend. He had thought they loved him too.  
“He forfeited all that when he hurt Jared.”

Orlando shook his head, staring when Jared nodded, looking from one to the other. He knew he was oblivious, but to miss this, to not see this. Karl hurt someone, someone like Jared, who was by far the nicest, sweetest person Orlando knew. He didn’t want to think that this could be happening, but at the seriousness that enveloped the room, he knew that it was. Karl had done something unspeakable. But he also hadn’t told them why.

He took a deep breath, looking straight into Viggo’s eyes.

“There must be a reason. There must be something wrong. Because a moment ago he was hurting so much he couldn’t breathe. And no one has asked him what is wrong. I won’t leave him alone. You have to let me go to him. It’s time someone looked after him for a change.”

Jared nodded. He needed to know too. That was enough for Viggo, if Jared was alright with letting Orlando go after him, then Viggo had to be as well.

“Be… be careful.” Viggo managed. Orlando would go with or without his permission. He only hoped that what Orlando said was true, that Karl would not hurt him.  
Orlando kissed him gently, running out the door, chasing Karl.


	76. Chapter 76

LXXVI  
by Beryll

The corridors of the palace were crowded with people. Nobles, merchants, servants, slaves, each hurrying along or walking according to their rank and the urgency of their task. The celebrations for the Caliph's birthday were not only a chance to pay respect to the ruler and party - it was also a chance to meet all the other guests, to trade and negotiate, to forge new alliances and break old ones, a hotbed for intrigue and politicking.

A single slave dashing down those corridors - even if it was an exceptionally pretty one - did not draw much attention. And of the few who had to dodge him maybe one or two noticed that he was blind with tears.

Elijah himself didn't pay attention to anything but his inner turmoil either. Nothing made sense anymore. He loved Sean so much his heart hurt with every single beat and it was beating so fast now that he thought it would burst. Couldn't Sean see how much he was hurting? Didn't he care? Didn't anybody care?

How could Sean be so cruel when Elijah was just trying to protect him? Couldn't he see the evil hunger in that foreigners eyes? That he was going to steal Sean away, that he was going to hurt him, just like he had been hurt before. How could they all trust that man? The prince, Orlando, everybody was charmed by him, almost like they were all under some sort of spell.

But he didn't belong here! It was all wrong. He was taking Sean away, stealing his heart.

And now Sean hated Elijah when he was just trying to do the right thing. It was all a trick by that man, trying to widen the gulf between them. An evil plan to break them apart. To do something terrible to Sean. Elijah was sure of it but nobody was listening to him anymore. They didn't care. 

He was losing all of them. How could he have been so stupid to let them close to his heart in the first place? Hadn't he learned anything? As soon as he allowed himself to love it all ended in pain and tears. He should have learned that lesson…

His troubled thoughts were abruptly interrupted as he crashed into another body, suddenly blocking his path. Had he been less confused he might have just dodged away and run on but blinded by his tears he couldn't get away fast enough and was caught by a firm hand on his shoulder.

"What the…" an angry voice started to complain and then stopped just as suddenly.

Elijah blinked through his tears owlishly, suddenly realizing that he might very well just have gotten himself into even more trouble. After all the Prince had forbidden them to leave his quarters unless they were on an errant for him. Too many strangers in the palace who could not be trusted, he had said. The face who stared back at him was strangely familiar, still it took a long moment and the other man speaking again for Elijah to recognize him.

"Lij? Is that you?" the man asked incredulously.

Elijah was just as surprised at seeing his half-brother Leonardo. They had never been close. Leonardo being the son of a minor concubine of their father, he had been trained to be a soldier early on. Elijah had frequently been forced to listening to their father complain how much he wished Elijah was a little more like Leo or one of his other lesser born brothers and a little less like his beloved main wife - Elijah's mother. But birth had settled their places in life and what Allah willed, mere mortals had to accept.

"Leo?" echoed his brother question, only with a lot more confused emotions behind it. 

So maybe they had never been close but at least this was a familiar face, someone to cling to when the very ground seemed to disappear under Elijah's feet.

With a small sob the young slave threw himself at his brother who in reflex wrapped his arms around the trembling boy.

Had Elijah looked up at Leo he would have seen a multitude of emotions reflecting on his face and most of them would have warned him to draw away and run as fast and as far as he could. But he buried his own face against the strong chest of the young warrior and hid from what he perceived as the world's cruelty all directed at him.

When Leo gently disentangled him, draping a protective arm around him, he just allowed himself to be led away.

"What happened to you, Lij?" his brother asked, now a worried and reassuring smile firmly in place on his face.

Elijah explanation came out in a jumbled mess. About Sean hating him, about the foreigner, about the Prince not understanding Sean was in danger.

None of it could make real sense to Leo but he was able to read out the details important to him. "So the Caliph gave you to the new Prince?" he asked. "And you are now in trouble with your 'master'?"

Elijah nodded although he wasn't sure why it was this part of the story that caught Leo's attention. Slowly he was calming down and somewhere deep in his mind a small alarm bell rang at these questions. He quickly tried to silence it. Leo was family. He would not hurt him. 'Is that so?' a small voice in his head replied, 'just like your father didn't hurt you?'

Before he could really consider this valid point, Leo was ushering him through a door into what had to be his guest suite and firmly closed that door behind both of them.

"Well isn't that too bad…?" Leo drawled, his compassion and worry suddenly gone from his voice. "Nobody loves poor little Lij."

When Elijah looked up at him, his face was a grin, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement and there was a leer to them that Elijah had never noticed before. He took a step backward but a quick glance around told him that he was trapped. He had followed Leo like a stupid boy would follow a lion into it's den.

"You know, I was wondering if you would still be here," his brother continued, following Elijah. "A pretty boy like you at the hands of the Caliph, I thought he might have used you up by now. Seems he wasn't man enough to deal with a tasty morsel like you. And his adopted son seems just as wimpy. If you had been given to me…" he smacked his lips in a obscene sound, "you'd be fucked so raw by now even the lowliest soldiers wouldn't want you. But that can be remedied."

Elijah kept drawing back and Leo followed him step for step, until Elijah's back was pressed against a cool wall and there was nowhere to go.

"Prince Viggo will… will have you punished if you touch me…" he threatened weakly.

Leo laughed. "The same Prince you just ran away from. The same Prince who doesn't care about you? Yeah, sure… he probably won't even notice you are missing." He leaned forward, bracing his hands against the wall on either side of Elijah's head. "Don't worry my sweet little lamb, maybe I will send you back to him when I'm done with you. We'll see if he will still want you then."

Elijah tried to dodge away but Leo's hand was faster, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him to the wall. His brother was so close that his smell seemed to fill Lij's world - sweat and arousal. There were a million things he should have done - could have done - to try and escape but he was frozen in fear.

"Please," he whimpered, "don't…"

Again Leo laughed. "You silly little twit. You have no idea how long I've been wanting to see these pretty lips wrapped around my cock, to bruise this milky skin of yours with my fingerprints, to grab these slender hips and ram into you until you bleed. I watched you with that lover boy of yours, you know? How you held hands, how you whispered sweet words. Disgusting! How could he dare to touch what should have been mine?!"

Elijah's eyes grew even wider as he realized what his brother's words meant. "You told father…" he whispered, growing cold.

"Of course I told father." Leo sneered. "Had the old bastard in a right rage with just a few words." He leaned forward to sniff Elijah's neck. "Didn't count on him sending you away though. I told him I'd make a man of you but he wouldn't listen…"

Elijah was struggling but his brother's grip was like a vice. Leo snickered evilly. "You can't fight me, brother." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You will do exactly what I tell you too and maybe, just maybe, you will get out of here alive."

Then Leo's fist rammed into his stomach and Elijah saw stars from the sudden pain and tears shot to his eyes again. He was desperately trying to force air back into his lunges, unable to fight, sinking to his knees as Leo let go of his throat.

"Hmm…" his brother sighed, "just where I always wanted you."

His strong hand firmly gripped Elijah's hair and pulled his head up so their eyes met again. "Now listen well, I will fuck any way I want and nobody will come and help you. Either you do what you are told or I will beat you to a bloody pulp before I start. It's up to you. So what will it be?"

Elijah stared up at him, his mind racing like a panicked animal. Leo was right. Nobody would come looking for him. None of them cared. There was nothing and nobody to save him now. He recoiled from that truth but it was inescapable. He was at the mercy of his brother and there obviously was no mercy to be found.

His answer took to long for Leo's liking and Elijah was backhanded hard, his upper lip splitting and blood trickling down.

"Say it, you bitch!" Leo hissed. "Say: please fuck me, brother!"

So this was what it came down to. It was what Allah had planned for him right from the start. To be a fucktoy. He had escaped that fate by some miracle much too long. Still something inside of him balked at admitting to it.

Again Leo hit him hard. "Say it!"

Was this what they had done to Sean? Fresh tears came to Elijah's eyes. Strong Sean on his knees like this, helpless. Had Sean ever given in to them? Never, Lij told himself. And that is why he will never love you, because you're a weak willed boy, not a warrior like him. How can you ever compare to someone like Eric? How can you ever be strong enough for Sean to rely on you? You're a boy, a kitten, a pet! Face it, you are not enough.

"…no…" it came out as a barely audible whisper.

"What was that?!" for a moment Leo seemed in shock, just staring down at Elijah. "You worthless piece of shit! You dare…?!"

"Never." Elijah said, staring back at Leo with all the defiance he could muster.

The next blow was not open-handed but a hard fist, followed by many more, hitting him wherever it hurt. Elijah cried out in pain till his voice was raw, he was sobbing and desperately curling up to avoid the blows. But he didn't speak again. He didn't give in.

At last Leo had vent his rage, having made good on his promise to beat up Elijah. When he grabbed Elijah's hair again, the young slave was to weakened to resist, when his mouth was forced open and a hard cock shoved down his throat there was nothing he could do. But the knowledge that he had been strong.

He nearly blackened out from lack of air as his brother came down his throat and remained like that, revelling in his conquest. He crumbled to a heap as there was a knock on the door and his brother let go of him and turned away.


	77. Chapter 77

LXXVII  
By Mel

Orlando got a little lost quiet quickly. He'd never been to Karl's rooms before, not in all the months he'd been with Viggo. It didn't help that the palace seemed so much larger and foreboding when it was full of people. There was no time for inching around, if Orlando didn't look like there was somewhere he had to be anyone of the nobles or dignitaries around him could cause a problem. He should have thought to ask Sean the way, but if he had stayed any longer someone would have tried to talk him out of this.

If he had known what was going on he would have gone to find Karl sooner.

He knew the only reason he was still alive and unharmed was because of Karl. That the reasons he'd always seemed to just get away was because of the Captain's intervention. Orlando wasn't much of a street rat really, it had been Dom's forte, not his. With no other option for survival, he had been reduced to theft like the rest of the urchins on the street. If Karl hadn't shown an interest in him, Orlando was certain he'd be dead like many of the young ones who could not keep up.

So he had always loved Karl. It was all he had to offer. He sort out the older man when he could and he knew Karl would not get in trouble. Orlando couldn't give him gifts, he only stole money for food or clothing for himself, but he could make him smile. Some days he was more out of sorts then others and Orlando would do anything to get him to grin. He looked so beautiful when he laughed and Orlando wanted nothing more then to cause that reaction in the man that saved his life. If things had been a little different, Orlando would have gratefully become Karl's slave.

Everything he was, he owed to Karl.

And he hadn't even been able to see him falling apart.

Thankfully, before he had a chance to think too much on it, he was able to snag a servant who wasn't too busy, and get directions to Karl's rooms. He wasn't too far from them, and with a purposeful stride that he hoped attracted very little attention. The last thing he wanted now was for some dignitary to take an interest in him.

Orlando didn't pause to knock, both wanting to give Karl no time to hide within himself, and no chance for Orlando to talk himself out of being here. Blessedly the rooms were empty, the door almost completely muffling out the sounds of the celebration out side. They were neat and ordered, like Orlando had always thought Karl to be, simple with no lavish trimmings. He moved slowly through them, taking the calm and centring himself. Even Karl's rooms had the effect on him that the man did.

Karl was found when Orlando stood in the entrance to the bedroom. He sat at the head of the divan, his bare back pressed against the wall and his clothed legs pressed tight against his chest with his face buried into his crossed arms. His braided hair clung to his body, starting to unravel so that the free strands floated around his head in the still air.

Orlando moved into the room, his foot falls quiet against the tiles but he could see Karl stiffen. He knew he could feel him in the room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, close but not enough to touch unless he reached out. Karl didn't look at him.

"Please talk to me."

Orlando let the silence go on for a little while before he clung to the base of Karl's trousers, feeling him start against the contact, though he didn't shift away. "Please Karl."

The noise he made broke what little restraint Orlando had and he moved, pulling Karl's arms, bodily forcing his legs to move till he could straddle his lap. Digging his fingers into the Captain's hair, the action dragging his tawny eyes up. His hands stayed at his sides while he looked up at Orlando.

"I hurt Jared."

"I know," Orlando whispered, "tell me why."

"I am afraid you won't understand," Karl chocked on his words. "I don't deserve you Orlando, you shouldn't be here."

"Let me decide that. Tell me." Orlando lent forward, pressing his lips against Karl's, feeling him shiver against the touch. "Trust me, please."

For a moment all that could be heard was their breaths mingling together then Karl's eyes closed and his taunt body relaxed. He curved around Orlando, hands clinging to his hips, head resting against the pulse at the base of Orlando's neck. Orlando began to unravel the rest of his hair so that his fingers could sooth his scalp.

"My Father is a slave trader. I was brought up knowing I would one day work beside him. He specialised taking in problem slaves, slaves who didn't know there place, and then breaking them in. He never had any qualms in killing the slaves who would not break, they were unusable to him if they had any spirit left." Orlando could feel him shaking as the halted words began to pour out. "The things he made me do from the moment I could walk... it would make me sick for days afterwards. He always said I would get over my weakness, but I never did."

"Just before I left him, my Father received a group of pleasure slaves from a conquered Lord. They were pampered and spoilt; they were use to sitting beside their Lord and being treated fairly. They had forgotten they were slaves. I foolishly fell in love with one."

The fingers against his hips tightened reflectively but Orlando didn't protest, holding Karl all the tighter.

"Diya was perfect, I had never had one person in my life that made me feel as he did. I needed no more convincing that my Father's life was not for me so I made plans to leave, and take Diya with me. Somehow, my Father knew what I was doing, and he knew I had feelings for one of his new slaves. There were five of them, a mix of women and men. He." a deep shuddering breath, "I had to break them. But I could break none of them to his satisfaction. So he had me kill them. But Diya, Diya I couldn't kill. My father had me beaten while he slit his throat. Diya drowned in his own blood."

Orlando held him as Karl clung desperately to him. It took a long time for Karl to talk again and Orlando was sure his skin would never be dry of the tears they shed against it.

"I don't know if he expected me to still run after that, but I know he didn't chase me. I wandered for years before coming to Aqaba and into the Caliph's service. Jared. Jared reminds me of Diya, they look so alike, even there spirits are the same."

Orlando kissed the top of Karl's head, his behaviour towards the other boy making sense. He wasn't angry with Jared, but with himself, and with the demons that plagued him for what he had been made to do as a young man. "Then why did you hurt him, Karl?" There was more to it.

"The day I," he had trouble forming the words against Orlando's skin, "I raped him I had found who had sold Sean to the auction house. My Father had Sean before he came here." He lifted his head, haunted eyes staring at the boy he had watch grow. "Sean doesn't talk of the nightmares he has, but I know what my Father would have done to him. The same things he had taught me to do as a babe. Then Jared came in, looking as Diya did, and I was that boy again, with my father shouting in my ear and I."

Orlando swallowed, the tears making it hard to see his face. To think Karl carried this with him his whole life. It was no wonder Orlando had to work so hard to make him smile. 

"Your Prince has every right to turn me away. How can I be allowed anywhere near you or the other boys when I am the monster my father created?"

Orlando kissed him, the tears making their lips slide against each other. He poured everything into Karl, his love and fear, his adoration and anxiety. All of it, with his fingers digging into Karl's hair, pulling himself closer, as if he could crawl inside this man he loved.

"You have to tell them," he whispered against his lips when he broke away, "you can't keep this from them, Karl. They love you, and they will understand." He ran his fingers over the skin, mapping the lines of Karl's face. "And they will forgive. Jared will as well."

Karl kissed him this time, a little desperate, his body clinging to the boy above him. Fresh tears washing away the last of his doubts. Putting Diya to rest peacefully inside his heart.

"Will you stand with me?"

Orlando smiled, holding him tight, "always."


	78. Chapter 78

LXXVIII  
by Beryll

The steam from the coffee cup was rising up slowly, gently, forming intricate patterns in the light of the midday sun that was filtering in through the gauze curtains from the central yard. It was too hot out there now. Too hot to continue the Prince‘s audiences. Too hot really to do anything but relax for a few hours. Even on a busy day like the Caliph's birthday life seemed to stop.

It still felt alien to Sean to have a break like that in the middle of the day. Viggo seemed to enjoy it thoroughly, relaxing in a cool bath under the gentle ministrations of Jared. Sean had withdrawn to his own room to read some reports over a cup of coffee.

If there was one thing he had come to like about this strange country if was the string black brew. It never failed to bring his mind - sluggish with the heat - back to it's usual sharpness.

But that sharpness was less welcome than usual today. For it brought to his attention that a few things in his life were not as ordered and simple as he would have liked them to be.

Why had Lij snapped at Eric like that?

At the time of the boy's outburst it had seemed completely erratically to Sean. A stern reminder of authority had come as a natural response. But whatever troubled the boy seemed to run much deeper as he had run off and Sean could have sworn he had seen tears in his eyes.

His instinct had been to follow Lij but Viggo's reasoning and duty had held him back. Maybe Lij did need to work this out on his own. Even though the urge to protect him was overwhelming in Sean there also was the fact that the boy couldn't stay a boy forever. He had to grow up eventually; Sean would have to allow him to develop a strength of his own. No matter how much it meant to him to have Lij cuddled against him, seeking protection, it was not fair to Lij. He had the right to be more than a mere kitten. As long as Sean indulged his every whim he could never become that. 

It had been hard to let Viggo grow up but Sean had managed. He would manage with Lij as well. 

Maybe Lij would then also realize that Sean was really a little old for him. That there was younger, livelier, more interesting company to be had. But Sean would cope with that as well. Seeing Lij happy would be enough.

After all there also was Eric.

With a tired sigh Sean rubbed his face.

Eric who was watching him with deep worry and brotherly calm, waiting patiently for Sean to reveal what was wrong. Eric who was pained to the core by the fact that his lover would not bear his touch and didn't offer any kind of explanation when he drew back. Who would not even meet Eric's eye. Generous, gentle Eric, who did not push, who never demanded anything and offered his shoulder to lean on unconditionally. 

Still Sean couldn't get those words over his lips. In his head he knew that Eric would only feel rage for those who had used Sean. But in his heart was nothing but fear. The fear of disgust in Eric's eyes, of Eric turning away. Of forced friendship slowly fading away to cool nothing. The fear of losing what little of his relationship with Eric still remained.

And there had been a true relationship between them. Even if neither of them had ever acknowledged it in words it had been as strong as the rocky foundation of the castle Sean had grown up in. No matter how many month had passed without them seeing each other, one look, one nod and they had again been closer than any brothers could be.

So many cold nights shared on narrow cots or furs close to a campfire could never be forgotten. So many silent vigils, guarding what was dear to both of them. So many battled fought back to back, blood and tears shared.

They had been swordbrothers and lovers.

Had been.

Sean just couldn't say what they were now. 

So much had happened. So much had gone wrong.

He wondered if Eric had talked to Viggo. If he had asked. Probably he hadn't. And if he had, Viggo would have told him it was not his place to tell. Maybe it would have been better if Viggo hadn't been such a terribly honourable man, if he would just tell Eric and lift the burden of decision making from Sean's shoulders.

But that would never happen.

With a soft sigh Sean stared into the steam still rising from his coffee cup. Had life been this difficult before he had come to this alien place? 

In the steam another face seemed to form and to look back at Sean with eyes full of sorrow and pain.

Damn.

Maybe he should have joined Viggo in his cool bath instead of allowing his mind to wander. Deep in his heart Sean knew that it had been the right decision to let Orlando go after Karl. He had watched Karl suffer. He had watched how his eyes grew more haunted every passing day, how the self-confident Captain had started to slip. It had been small mistakes, nothing anybody would notice who wasn't watching Karl with such angry alertness as Sean. He had wanted to see Karl break, had wanted that fatal flaw that would give Sean an excuse to remove Karl from the palace. To remove him from reach of the kittens - and from his life.

It just didn't make sense to Sean. Why had Karl done it? Why had he even insisted on being right after the deed? Why had he never even tried to apologize when he was so obviously suffering from the bad conscience any man should have?

There had been times when Sean had felt so sorry for him he had been ready to just take Karl in his arms and tell him everything would be all right. It was Sean's nature to do so. But then he had remembered Jared crying, Jared bleeding and he had reminded himself that Karl deserved it. And he had remembered how much he had trusted Karl and how much he had been betrayed. He had never thought Karl was capable of raping anyone. He had been wrong. He could not afford to trust Karl again. There was too much he himself had to lose.

And that really was the heart of the reason why Sean felt so bad. Because he could not tell if it really was about Jared or if it was about himself. Did Karl deserve to suffer because Sean was still so very afraid?

What a tangled mess. The longer Sean thought the less his own thoughts made sense to him. Eric would have been able to put all this straight with a few clear words. But Eric didn't know and couldn't know.

It didn't matter now. Orlando would put an end to all these uncertainties with his innocent brutality. He would not rest until matters where resolved one way or another.

"Sean?"

Viggo's soft question interrupted his musings and Sean carefully rearranged his features to confident attentiveness before he looked up at his lord. Viggo's brow was creased in worry. He wore only a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair was still damp from the bath but drying quickly in a tangled mob.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Do you think it was right to let Orlando go after him? He's been gone an awfully long time..."

So Viggo was not able to relax either with his favourite kitten on his humanitarian expedition.

"No matter what Karl has done to Jared, I don't think he would ever hurt Orlando." Sean reassured Viggo gently. And this he actually believed.

With a soft sigh Viggo settled next to Sean and started nibbling on a piece of iced fruit that never failed to appear with Sean's coffee even though he never ate them. He looked so much like the boy Sean remembered that he couldn't help smiling fondly. Lost in his brooding Viggo didn't even notice.

"Why would he do such a thing? I just don't understand it." Viggo voiced the question Sean had asked himself. And Sean still only had one answer.

"I don't know."

"Is Orlando right? Should we have tried to find out?" Viggo looked at Sean with a boyish insecurity that made Sean's heart jump. "I still feel like cutting his heart out."

Sean suppressed a tired sigh. Some things were just a lot simpler to Viggo obviously. 

"He did not give us any reason to try and find out." Sean answered Viggo's question calmly even though he knew there had been plenty of reason for him if not for Viggo.

"I just hope Orlando's all right."

With a smile Sean realized that all Viggo was really asking for was enough reassurance so he could stop worrying about Orlando. As if anybody could have given him that. Viggo was hopelessly hooked on the kitten.

"He will be all right. Orlando can take care of himself." Sean dutifully said.

Viggo nodded, looking anything but convinced.

Both remained silent for a while, Sean sipping his coffee, Viggo slowly devouring the fruit, both waiting for Orlando to return.

At least the comfortable silence between the two of them had returned, Sean mused. He couldn't have said how or when it had happened but his anxiety had just slipped away and the easy friendship they had always shared had grown back. What Sean had feared to be an unbridgeable gulf between them had faded away like a wound healing until only a faint scar remained. It was reassuring, it was giving Sean hope for his relationship with Eric. But it would not happened as long as secrets remained between them. That was always what it came back to: he would have to tell Eric eventually.

Viggo was pushing the last piece of fruit back and forth on the plate like a bored boy. No wonder really that he and Orlando fit together so well. There was a part in Viggo that would probably never grow up.

But then they both heard the heavy footsteps of booted feet in the yard and were alert instantly. Then Orlando called out: "My Lord? Viggo?" So Orlando had brought Karl with him? Sean knew he shouldn't be surprised but still he wasn't quite prepared to face Karl now. And Viggo wasn't either, considering that he was still only wearing a towel. But maybe that was for the best, it would slow Viggo down in killing Karl outright.

"In here, kitten!" Viggo called.

A moment later Orlando stepped through the curtain separating Sean's room from the yard, followed much more slowly and reluctantly by Karl, who just glanced first at Viggo, then at Sean and then intently studied his own boots. He looked even more haunted and dishevelled Sean remembered. The strong and self-confident man who had helped Sean recover was fading - no - had almost faded away completely. It should have satisfied Sean but it didn't. It hurt.

"Karl need to tell you some things." Orlando said, for once sounding very serious and not happy at all, "Important things, things you really, really need to know. Please listen to him!"

Sean could feel Viggo bristling at Karl's presence. He didn't even need to look at Viggo to know that he was ready to just get up and inflict a good amount of pain on Karl. But Orlando was right. This had to end, this stupid game was waiting and silence. Sean wanted answers and he would get at least a few of them now.

So he planted a calming hand on Viggo's shoulder. He was a little surprised when he felt Viggo take a deep breath and settle again. He hadn't really hoped he would have such influence on Viggo but it definitely was reassuring.

Still slow anger was rumbling in Viggo's voice when he spoke. "I will listen. Please leave us Orlando."

Now it was the kitten's turn to bristle at this command. "But..." he started to complain.

"Please Orlando," Karl said his voice firm and shaky at the same time, "I will by all right."

"But I promised I would stand with you..." Orlando tried again. He tried his pleading look on Viggo, which normally never failed but this time he only met stony silence. With a small angry sound he turned on his heel and left.

Before Viggo had a chance to say anything else Karl dropped to his knees before him, his head still lowered. Not like a like a soldier or even a servant. He was presenting himself for judgement, Sean realized. And suddenly he found himself wishing Viggo would show mercy.

"So?" Viggo asked without much patience.

"I..." For a moment Karl was struggling to find words, "I have come to do what I should have done right away. I have hurt your kitten... raped him... there is no way to apologize for such a deed, no way to say I am sorry and still it is all I have to offer. Whatever punishment you deem appropriate I will accept without complaint. If you wish for me to leave the Caliph's service and Aqaba forever I will. But before I go I must explain why it happened. The afternoon the kitten came to my quarters I had just come back from the slave market. You may remember that you send me there to find out who sold your friend to maybe discover a clue on who..." here Karl stopped and swallowed visibly. 

Sean felt his heart constrict at at he was about to hear. The man who had nearly destroyed him. So Viggo had been after him without telling Sean. Again Sean knew he shouldn't be surprised and still he was.

"... I found his name..." Karl continued, unable to say out loud what had happened to Sean. Not with just having confessed the same crime. "It was a name well known to me. A slave trader renowned for his cruelty and his ability to break slaves. My father."

"WHAT?!" Viggo interrupted him before Sean had a chance to do the same.

Karl's father? Karl's father had been the one who...? Darkness fell like a heavy blanket over Sean's mind, memories that he had locked away threatening to swallow him up. Hands holding him down, cruel laughter, pain... and always that spiteful voice whispering in his ear. Suddenly it all was real again, close, like a wound barely healed ripping open again.

Karl's voice seemed to come from far away but still it rang a cord in Sean, so strong was the pain in it, so close to his own pain. "I ran away from my father when I was quite young. His trade was... I could not bear it. He did things to those I loved... he made me do things... it does not matter now... When I found out it was him I didn't know what to do, how could I tell you and still expect you to have any respect for me? I was out of my mind and when I found that kitten I... I just lost it... it was like my father was shouting in my ear again, telling me how to... to break... It is no excuse. Nothing can be an excuse for what I have done."

"So then why are you telling us this now?" Viggo asked. His voice was still cold but Sean could hear the tremble in it.

And Sean felt his own heart tremble. He could almost feel Karl's despair. That man had come so close to breaking Sean, what must it have been like for Karl, being only a boy, trying to stand up to his own father? His pain, Sean's pain, they lay side by side and Sean felt his hatred melt away. Maybe it was no excuse in Karl's eyes but it certainly was in Sean's. It's was the explanation he had longed for, a reason to forgive Karl.

"Because he is here. Here in the palace. I just saw him, he is one of the dignitaries presenting presents to the Caliph. I don't know why or how but he is here. And I don't care one bit what happens to me as long as HE is punished!" Now finally Karl looked up at Prince Viggo, his amber eyes blazing with a hatred to match Sean's.


	79. Chapter 79

LXXIX   
By Mel

Eric's time had gone slowly. He watched Elijah leave, obviously distressed with what had transpired with him and Sean, then watched young Orlando go soon after. He was much more worried about the blue eyed boy then the slightly older one. Orlando had his head enough to look after himself, but Elijah was hurting, his mind wasn't on his movements. Both Sean and Viggo had spoken of the boys time away and he had seen the healed marks against the perfect skin on Orlando's back, he already knew what sort of trouble a wayward Kitten could get into.

As soon as it seemed safe to leave unnoticed, Eric left the Kitten's to handle their seemingly incompetent masters and headed in the direction Elijah had gone. Viggo might have believed him to be safe, but to Eric the boy certainly appeared unable to notice his own danger. Eric couldn't help but wonder if his lifetime friends had lost their senses in the sun or perhaps he had never seen them so sidetracked to not notice this before their noses. He would have words to his father when he arrived home.

It didn't take much to find which way the Kitten had disappeared, thankfully he hadn't upset any nobles, but he had run into more then his fair share of servants. The last few remembered him weeping upon a noble's shoulder though, a man who caused them to click their tongues, a sure sign of their irritation with him. But Elijah had called this Prince Leonardo by name, one servant even suggested that Elijah had called him 'Brother'. Eric made sure to thank the last girl, who was quiet pretty and more then a little flirtatious, and Eric was happy to stroke her ego. It always helped to know the servants well.

He stopped at the doorway he had been directed to. If Elijah had found his brother, then Eric was sure he couldn't be in safer hands. He smothered his fingers down the robes he had been offered, he would just check, a few moments to make sure Elijah was safe and sound, then he would have some stern words to Sean about how he had treated the obviously frightened boy. Knocking politely he waited, tugging at his cape.

The door opened to a shorter man than Eric was expecting but Elijah had been short so he was a little more comforted. His hair was like dark straw and dishevelled. In fact, everything about him seemed a little dishevelled, from his hair to his robes and shoes. Even his face was flushed, his eyes a little too searching, too wild. Especially for a man who was suppose to be playing concerned brother.

"My apologises, my Lord," Eric smiled, his hand drifting to the door that the Prince held tight to his body, making it difficult for him to see into the room. "I was told a young servant had come this way, I was wondering if I could perhaps see him for a moment?"

Eric had only been going to ask if the Kitten was safe, but he found he wanted to see for himself, more so with the nervous twitch from the Prince that accompanied his words. Tipping his strength against the wood the surprised Prince could not hold onto the door and it swung open, revealing Elijah to him.

The blood was pooling around his trembling body, the ablastor skin already turning violet in more places then Eric could count. Elijah was barely holding up his own weight he was shaking so hard, even strands of his hair fell around him, ripped from his scalp. His head was slightly turned, but Eric could still make out the worst of the bruises covering his face, at least the eye on this side would not open properly for days. And the sounds, the way he gagged, his body shaking more as he expelled the foreign liquids from his throat. They too pooled around him, mixing with the blood that came from some wounds Eric couldn't see.

He looked back at the little man before him who was obviously clever enough to realise his own peril, looking around for a way to escape, his mouth opening to make excuses. It was all the confirmation Eric's rising fury needed.

With a roar he slammed his fist against the door, throwing it against the wall. Things shattered, the sound cascading against the thump of Eric's heartbeat, against the blood surging through his veins. He couldn't speak, and every instinct within him shed his normally calm nature, leaving only one clear thought within his mind.

This creature would pay dearly for his trespass.

His fingers curled quickly around the flesh of his neck, as if they were meant to be right there in this very instant of time. They reflectively tightened, making his eyes bulge. Eric gave into the urge, flinging the body against the wall, keeping his fingers tight, almost delighting in the sound his head made against the bricks.

Every second he touched him made Eric feel sick, as if his poison was sinking beneath Eric's skin. With a feral growl he crushed the spine beneath his massive hands, killing him long before Eric wanted to. He let go, uncaring as the body fell to the floor, huge breaths of air cooling the skin, silencing the sound of his heartbeat. Wiping his hands against his robes he spat on the dead man's body, turning once again to Elijah.

The site itself was enough to raise his hackles again, but with the kitten's tormentor dead Eric calmed the reaction, removing his ever present cape. The boy had collapsed in his own fluids and that of the dead man. Eric was gentle as he could be, but Elijah groaned as he was moved, making Eric cringe as he wrapped him up, lifting him to search for a healer.

\---

Elijah awoke a little groggy in a cool room he didn't recognise. The aches and pains of his battered body made themselves known as he moved slightly, trying to find a less painful way of lying. He groaned as he found that he was already on the least hurt side, and that if he didn't move too much he was as okay as he could be. Also, whenever he moved the gentle touch against his skin stilled.

It took him quiet some time to realise that he was in someone's bed chamber and the touch was that of a wash cloth wiping him down. He could smell medical herbs and when it brushed against an open wound it stung a little. Realising quickly enough that only one of his eyes appeared to open enough to be able to see, he twisted as gently as he could look at who was tending to him.

He was shocked and more then a little alarmed to see Eric beside him, that it was his gentle touch that was soothing his hurts. Such was the surprise of seeing the giant bear of a man looking after him that Elijah opened his mouth to speak. 

The pain of his throat and lips made him splutter, reminding him vividly of the act that had caused them. Squeezing his eyes shut Elijah fought off visions of his brother beating him, of raping his mouth. The hand moved and gently threaded his hair between calloused fingers. They tipped his head back with care, a mug pressed against his lips.

"Please drink this, the healer said it would help against the pain."

Eric was right, as the liquid spilled into his throat Elijah could already feel it beginning to numb it some. He had to wait for the broth to run its course, watching as Eric took up his cloth again, dipping it in a bowl and running it about his skin. Occasionally the older man would look him in the eye, but there was no aversion of his eyes, just a little bemused smile that would accompany a tilt of his head before his eyes returned to his task. For some reason it relaxed Elijah, it made him feel like a man, not a coddled child.

"I hope you have no love loss for your brother," Eric said, quietly into the soothing air, "because I'm afraid he's quiet dead."

"Dead?" Elijah somehow managed, his throat screaming as he spoke. "How?"

"I killed him," Eric's eyes turned to his own, shrugging a little. "I knew what he had done to you, and reacted. Perhaps a little too sharply, but it's done now. I'm sorry."

"For what he did for me, or the loss of the Princes honor?" Elijah knew he probably sounded ungrateful, but to be saved by this man, the man who had caused such trouble between him and Sean, than be treated with such pity. It was all a little hard too swallow.

There was that small smile again, as if he was laughing through out his body but it only showed through his smile and dark eyes. "Neither. I simply am sorry that you've missed the chance to extract your own revenge, now that he is gone. I would not feel sorry for the loss in Viggo's honor, because there is none. Nor for you, as you fought well against him."

The pain in his throat was lessening, making it easier to speak, which was fine as the words began to tumble from his mouth. This was the first time he had spoken in any length to the other man, and he was overwhelmed with how level he was with him. He had never felt like he was on the same footing with Viggo, or even Sean.

"How could you know, you were not there!"

"Men who take that sort of abuse are not so hurt. You fought well to defy someone who was much bigger then you, someone who you believed could be trusted." There was no indulgent smile, Eric said what he believed in such a straight forward manor that Elijah was left bewildered.

"Oh," he managed, lifting himself with some help from Eric so he could sit in front of him. "I have been stupid, haven't I?"

"Not so much," Eric grinned, "it's plain to see why you were so upset. If he was not so distracted I'm sure Sean would have reacted differently." Eric sighed a little, "if it wasn't for you he would have been an entirely lost cause."

"I can only do so much," Elijah said gratefully, Sean hurt so much so often, it was hard to have no one too talk about it to. Eric knew Sean too, he understood the quiet man so well. For the first time since Eric had arrived the thought was completely unthreatening. "He still dreams about what that man did to him, and won't speak of it much, but he wakes, practically tearing himself to pieces because of the rape he suffered through-"

"Sean was raped?"

Elijah's hands flew to his mouth, realising as sudden as Eric's exclamation was that Sean had not said anything to the other man. He had thought that this man who held Sean like a lover would know. The look in Eric's eyes, ranging from desperation, to anger and more then a little pain disappeared quickly as it had come, his hands removing Elijah's.

"It wouldn't do to send you home with more injuries after Liv did such a job in sewing them up," Eric ran his fingers soothingly along the backs of his hands. "No, Sean has not said anything to me, but I knew something had changed. If I had not thought he was simply tired of my touch then maybe I would have pushed a little more to find out what was wrong." He smiled ruefully at Elijah, making him feel a little better for the slip up he had made. "Even the best of us can read it all wrong, yes?"

Elijah nodded, feeling a little the same. To think he had thought Eric an enemy against him.

"These are your rooms?" he asked, changing the subject. With the can of worms now open it would be up to Sean and Eric to sort it out, Elijah had his own things to talk with Sean about.

"Rooms is a little much, it's more like 'room'. And yes, it is."

"You didn't take me home?" Elijah looked around in interest, there seemed to be another two barrels of that drink Eric and Viggo had been drinking on the night his joke had gone haywire, plus a few personal affects. A sword beside the bed in easy reach, his bear cape hanging against the wall. A leather bound book on a small table.

"No, I thought I'd bring you here to take advantage of you." At Elijah's horrified look, pronounced by his obvious injuries, Eric hurriedly changed track. "Actually, you were quiet insistent in your delirious state that we not take you back, and with everywhere else so crazy with the party, I brought you here. Is Orlando the only Kitten with a sense of humour?"

"There is a time for jokes," Elijah tried to sound cold and affronted, but was failing against his own amusement and Eric's bright smile. "Now was not it. I'm going to have to teach you about this aren't I?"

"You can try," the grin was a little cheeky, "Viggo's been trying for years. You're all just too stuffy for my unique humour."

"I'm sure you have it the wrong way around," Elijah managed with a yawn, looking a little accusingly at Eric. "What exactly was in that concoction you gave me?"

"Don't blame me," Eric helped him lie back down, "Liv says you have to sleep more. Don't worry, I watered it down so you wouldn't sleep for too long. You will have been missed."

"I will?" realising how childish he must sound Elijah wanted to take back the words, especially when Eric had said he'd fought well. That he'd been brave. But Eric simply nodded, giving him another smile, and moving to leave. "Wait!" Elijah yelped, face reddening, "you can lie down too, if you want."

Eric's whole face blossomed and Elijah suddenly didn't feel silly for asking. He didn't take off his clothes, laying down in front of him, dwarfing Elijah with his shear size alone. Elijah reached out, careful not to jar his injuries, taking Eric's hand in his own, letting his eye close, feeling content after so much uncertainty.

\---

As promised Elijah woke only a few hours later. Liv was not happy, but could get by with only scolding both of them. Still, she smiled, patting Elijah's arm in her absentminded motherly fashion, telling them both that Leo's body was to be sent home, with a letter of displeasure from the Caliph. Everyone would know swiftly the penalty for mistreating one of the slaves in his household.

Elijah shared a smile with Eric, grateful that the kind Bear beside him would not get into any trouble over this. Still, Elijah was surprised when he was asked if he wanted to see the body before it left but said yes without really knowing what he should do.

Other then Ahmed, Elijah had not seen another dead man. Leo's head still remained on its shoulders, which Elijah found, in some detached way, to be horribly disappointing. The weird angle of the neck and the fear filled look on his face was a comfort though. He had died knowing that what he had done too Elijah was the worst thing he could have. That his life was of even less importance then his supposedly disgraced brother. Elijah felt anything other then disgraced.

Looking at the man he had thought as a friend and brother Elijah felt nothing but contempt for him. He spat in the face of the corpse, watching for a moment as it rolled down the lifeless skin, feeling Ahmed's memory set free before turning to Eric who waited for him at the door. There was a twinkling of delight in his eye as he waited for him to join him.

"Come on, the Kittens should know of the strong little lion they have in their midst."

Elijah had to walk slowly, but he couldn't deny the feeling of happiness that spread through him at Eric's words. Still, he managed a look of haughtiness that made Eric, who Elijah was sure never actually stopped smiling, grin even more.

"You do and I'll be telling them about what a bear cub you really are."


	80. Chapter 80

LXXX  
by Beryll

"What do you mean, he is gone?!"

The raw rage in Karl's voice made the two guards flinch back and some tiny part of Karl felt sorry for them. After all it wasn't their fault. They couldn't have had any way of knowing.

It had all taken too long; Karl hiding in his room until Orlando managed to force him out of his shell, explaining to the Prince, waiting for the Prince to get dressed - even though that had been the quickest part about it. And now it was too late. He had missed his chance for revenge. It felt like everything was caving in on him. He had gathered all his courage - for nothing. Karl slumped against one of the corridors walls feeling weak and helpless.

Sean's voice seemed to come from far away as he took over questioning the guards. How could he stay so calm, Karl wondered, after all this was about him.

"When did he leave?"

"After his audience with the Caliph." one of the guards answered, worriedly glancing first at Karl, then at the Prince who was gripping his sword hilt tightly, looking like he was barely able to control his own rage. "That was about two hours ago."

"Do we know where he went? Is there a chance that he will still be in the city?"

Sean's question gave Karl another brief moment of hope. How could he have overlooked this possibility? His hopes were squashed immediately though.

"He was leaving the city, returning to his Lord. By now he will be well on his way."

Karl's despair was mirrored be the Prince. "DAMN!" The Prince's fist slammed into one of the walls, frustrating and rage winning out over his self control. He looked like he was ready to strangle the guards and they took a cautious step backwards.

"His Lord? Who is this Master Voosloo serving?" Now there was a slight tremble in Sean's voice as well but somehow he managed to keep a level head still.

"Lord Walken. He is a distant cousin of the Caliph. He holds a small keep in the desert, guarding caravan routes from the nomad tribes."

Struggling against the despair in his heart Karl closed his eyes, trying to block out all the foul memories rising. He had to clear his mind, had to think straight. How had his father come into the service of this Lord? He had always been an independent man, taking orders from nobody. And why would such a Lord take in a lowly slave trader and send him out as a dignitary?

'Oh, and you are so much better than him? The son of a lowly slave trader?' a spiteful voice asked in his head. Karl drew himself up. He had come far and he had worked hard for the status he had gained. He was not his father.

There had to be a very good reason why his father had accepted a master. 

"Thank you, you may get back to your duties." Sean released the guards from further questioning.

Something Karl should have done. He felt deep gratitude for Sean covering up for his weakness. Even though he was probably not doing it in kindness. Forgiveness from Sean or the Prince was too much to hope for. His sentence had just been suspended by their hurry to find his father.

"We can follow them." the Prince growled, his anger on a tight leash that was close to snapping. "If we ride fast we can still catch up on them."

"No." Sean's answer came quiet, a clear order. "We are not prepared to face them, he will have guards and we can not take ours, we can't just murder a servant of a relative of the Caliph. And I still clearly remember what happened the last time we entered A Nafud unprepared."

Sean's eyes met the storm in the Prince's grey eyes calmly. Karl watched as the bristling fury in the Prince subsided slowly, as he nervously fidgeted with his sword hilt and finally looked away.

"You are right." the Prince admitted, though he didn't sound happy about it at all.

It just now dawned on Karl how much Sean had changed - healed - since he had last spent time with him. Karl tried to feel happiness about it but it just wouldn't come. He would never be allowed to get to know this much stronger Sean. He would never be allowed to lean on Sean in his weakness. He didn't deserve it. He really didn't even deserve to be in his presence.

"My Lord," he addressed the Prince, lowering himself to one knee again, his eyes fixed to the floor, "I have failed you again, I should have gotten news of my father's presence here in the palace to you sooner. I should have never even stayed quiet on it. I will accept my punishment now."

The silence seemed to stretch forever. 

When the Prince finally spoke he had much calmed and what he said wasn't at all what Karl had expected. "It is not my place to punish or forgive what you have done. Only the one wronged can decide what your fate should be. You must apologize to Jared and ask him for a verdict."

Face Jared? The mere thought made Karl dizzy. Did the Prince know that probably this was the worst kind of punishment he could have picked? But of course he was right. Honor demanded he faced his victim and his crime.

"As you command, my Lord." He accepted his orders.

\---

It had been s strange day so far. Everything had started quite as usual with the Prince entertaining various guests of the Caliph and the kittens serving them refreshments, sometimes with Dominic sitting in a corner playing his flute.

But when they had just been ready to retire for the midday break things had started to go awry. First Lij had snapped at the foreigner Eric, then the Captain of the Caliph's guard had shown up, scaring Jared to the bone, if just for a moment.

He knew that he was well protected with both Sean and the Prince present. He even knew that he would not let it happen again, that he would fight back, was expected to fight back. Still the initial shock had been there. But the Captain had been banned from the Prince's quarters faster then Jared had been able to recover.

And then Orlando had started asking questions. Jared hadn't even known that Sean and the Prince hadn't told the other kittens. Orlando had been furious. He loved the Captain, Jared had quickly realized, in the unique way Orlando was capable of loving almost everyone. It was like Orlando was talking about a completely different person than the man who had so brutally used Jared and then discarded him.

Of course it had been impossible for the Prince to deny Orlando going after the Captain.

Even though it seemed to give the Prince a headache as monumental as the ones had had been suffering from when he had been ill. During his midday bath the Prince had been silent and brooding and Jared had been quite sure he had been close to snapping at Jared for nothing repeatedly. But as always the Prince had remained unfailingly kind, reminding Jared yet again why he served him so gladly.

When the Prince had left to talk with Sean, Jared had busied himself with putting order back into the bathing room.

He had heard when Orlando had returned and by the sound of booted footsteps he had guessed that the kitten had brought the Captain as well. Jared had barely had time to wonder what the Prince would do now when Orlando had stomped past the curtained off bathing room, obviously in an extremely foul mood. He had kicked the bedpost hard, then collapsed onto the bed face first and stayed there unmoving.

Jared had briefly considered going over to him to enquire how his talk with the Captain had gone and if he was all right of course. But then he had decided against it. He didn't really want to know.

A few minutes later the Prince had stormed in, grabbing his clothes, completely ignoring Jared's attempts at helping him to get dressed. Through the curtain Jared had glimpsed the Captain and Sean waiting in the yard, both wearing grim expressions, their hands gripping sword hilts tightly. Again Jared had not asked when the Prince had collected his own sword from the training room and left with the other two warriors. Whatever they were up to - it was much safer not to know.

Midday break would still last for at least another hour. The next guest on the Prince's schedule would arrive a little later but everything was already prepared for that. Dominic and Billy were both napping in the kitten's room and Lij was not back from wherever he had run off to. Jared was pretty sure the foreigner Eric had gone after Lij so he was not overly worried. 

It was not often that he got some quiet time to himself so Jared had settled in his favourite spot: a window overlooking the southern part of the city in the Prince's study. The sill was comfortably wide a cosy sitting place with the huge red velvet cushion Jared had brought with him. A soft breeze was blowing in from the harbour, carrying the scent of salt and spices and sun baked stone and the faint sound of ships scrapping against docks. Even the harbour was mostly deserted in the midday heat and so human sounds were nearly absent. The streets of Aqaba below Jared lay quiet, the many brilliantly coloured shade-clothes contrasting with the white stone roofs, dotted with the occasional palm tree. It was all quite beautiful. Especially from afar.

Laying his head against the cool window frame Jared had rested, dozing off.

The voice of his Lord had woken him up again: "Jared? Where are you?" There were a lot of conflicting emotions in the Prince's voice, most of which Jared could not identify. Anger he could make out clearly, but hopefully not directed at him.

"Yes, my lord?" he quickly answered, rubbing sleep from his eyes, then slipping from his seat and straightening his clothing.

Moments later the Prince stepped through the curtain. His eyes were so stormy they seemed dark grey, Jared noticed, but for Jared the Prince seemed to have only worry and the put on what he probably hoped was a reassuring smile but more looked like a feral grin.

"There is someone who wants to talk to you." He said, holding open the beaded curtain.

Jared flinched when the Captain of the Caliph's guard stepped through but then quickly squared his shoulders. He could do this!

He was surprised when the Captain glanced at him only for a moment and then lowered his gaze in what could only be called deference.

Silence seemed to stretch into eternity.

"Well?" the Prince then prodded the Captain none too kindly.

Jared almost felt sympathy as the Captain flinched. This so much was not the man he remembered using him so harshly. This more looked like a scared boy, held by the neck by a stern father.

The Captain glanced at the Prince. "Can I talk to him alone? Please, my lord?"

The Prince opened his mouth, to object, Jared was quite sure. But before he could actually do so, Jared heard himself speak up: "It's all right, my lord. I will be safe."

Now where had that come from? Jared wasn't quite sure but there was something in the Captain's stance… something that touched Jared in unexpected ways. He knew it was ridiculous really but he felt sorry for the man. Of course the Captain had used him - raped him - whatever the Prince and Sean wanted to call it. But it had been a wake-up call for Jared. It had made him realize really that he was not a whore as long as he didn't allow himself to feel like one. 

For the first time Jared consciously thought back to those minutes in the Captain's quarter. To the spite and hatred in his voice when he had taken him. That had not been a man using a whore, that had been something else, whatever had possessed the Captain that day, it was entirely missing now. And now that he thought abut it, there were odd things he had not noticed because he had so quickly buried all memories of the incident. How the Captain had withdrawn from him as if burned, the small sound of anguish that Jared now realized had not come from him but from the Captain. Even then he had regretted his deed. What must he feel like now, after being giving plenty of time to feel terrible?

Suddenly Jared was quite sure that the Captain would never hurt him again.

He smiled at the Prince reassuringly. For a moment the Prince looked like he would balk but then he relented, turning on his heel and stalking out. He was obviously not happy and oddly reminded Jared of Orlando.

Curiously Jared returned his attention to the Captain. The man was nervously fidgeting, clearly at a loss of how to say what he wanted to say. But Jared was quite willing to give him all the time he needed.

"I…" he finally began, just to stop immediately to run his hands through his braids, tugging on them unhappily. "Allah… I know this is not enough… but there is nothing else I can give you… I'm sorry for what I have done to you. So very sorry. I wish I could take it all back, I wish there was some way for me to make it all right again but there is not. I…" he stopped a moment but then just rushed on, "the Prince says it is up to you to pick my punishment and whatever you chose I will submit. Whatever you chose, I deserve it."

The anguish in his voice was so overwhelming that Jared just couldn't help himself. With a few quick steps he was beside the Captain, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder.

The man looked up in surprise, his amber eyes filled with soul-tearing pain. For a moment they looked at each other - whore and warrior - and Jared could see that the Captain was fighting tears.

"I'm sorry." He repeated brokenly.

And Jared smiled. "It may not be enough for you but it seems to be enough for me." He answered softly. "I don't know if you will forgive yourself but I am willing to forgive."

The Captain stared at him numbly, obviously unable to believe his own ears. It brought a few things to Jared's attention that he had previously completely overlooked. Like what a good looking man the Captain actually was. And that at the moment he was completely at Jared's mercy. An evil glint entered the young slave's eyes.

"But as you seem to believe that some sort of punishment would be fair I will give you one. You owe me, Captain. You owe me a night in which I may do to you whatever I please."

Now the Captain gapped at him open-mouthed, making Jared's smile turn into a self-confident grin.

"But not tonight," he declared airily, "you are not in shape."

And with that he brushed past the stunned man and left him standing there, feeling so elated he wasn't quite sure his feet were still touching the ground.


	81. Chapter 81

Part LXXXI  
By Mel

There was a little, cold nose pressed against his skin, making Orlando lift his head to see the bright eyes of the lion cub watching him. The creature then yawned, teeth showing, before crawling closer, nudging at Orlando’s arm as it lay down. Orlando looked at it, wish he could join it in slumber. For a while it had one eye open due to the shift Orlando made, his fingers stroking down the fur of his back.

“When did it go so wrong, Dave?”

The lion didn’t have an answer for him, but even speaking to the animal was better then nothing. When had they all started treating him like he was some small child? Like he couldn’t handle the truth, or some ‘grown up’ discussion? To keep Jared’s rape a secret was bad enough, to alienate Karl and then to kick him out from their conversation; it was all getting too much. What next, Viggo’s disgrace from court, someone’s death? What else would they decide he wasn’t old enough to hear?

Or did they think him too weak? Could his friends, his lovers, truly believe that he wasn’t capable of handling anything more then what he wore the next day? It dawned on Orlando how very little he knew of everyone around him. It was so easy to let them all into his life that he hadn’t ever questioned it. He knew Karl would be there when he needed him no matter what his father had done to him. That Viggo would love him no matter how close to death he would become. Even Sean wouldn’t turn him away no matter how sad he might feel. But what else did they keep from him because they thought he was better off not knowing the details?

If possible, would they have hidden Viggo’s death away?

The thought of it made him feel ill and he had to get up, making his new bed mate crack both eyes open. Orlando’s free hands found a pillow as he moved, taking up a small course around the room. He had never felt so small. He knew he was young to his companions, but the gap had never been so pronounced. To send him away when Karl was alone, when they didn’t seem capable of trusting him, it was unbelievable. It all burned something deep in him, twisting, frustrating him to no end.

Hadn’t he been the one to notice? To take the most obvious course of action to set things right? Then shouldn’t he have some part in all?

“I shouldn’t have been thrown out like that.”

Saying it out loud helped. It was true, crystallised inside his mind and now in sound, making the air itself take on some tangible form. Orlando knew he didn’t deserve to be treated like he was some simpleton. He deserved more then that. The thought made him angry. Furious. He gave them everything he was, and yet they kept it all apart from him. 

Did any of them expect him to roll over and take what he was given like a good little boy?

He wasn’t just some pet, he was their friend. He was Viggo’s partner, not someone to lay beneath him, begging for every morsel of love and trust.

Looking up at the sound of heavy steps, Viggo strode into the room. There was no care in his footfalls which only seemed to make Orlando’s anger rise. What if he’d been asleep? Would he have expected to just storm in, have some mincing little pet listen to all his woes? Worship his feet, the world he walked on?

Before he could even think Orlando snarled, throwing the pillow at Viggo’s head. By reflex the Prince caught it, brooding head snapping up in Orlando’s direction just in time for the second pillow to meet its target.

Dave jumped from the bed, padding out of the room, apparently looking for a quieter place to sleep.

“What-“

But Orlando was too angry to listen to the thoroughly surprised sounding Viggo. He didn’t know what to do with his body, it was shaking so much, his hands groping for a third pillow. He looked at Viggo and all he could think of was how used he felt. As though he was unnecessary to him, that a million other boys could fill his shoes.

“Did you think I wouldn’t care?”

“Orlando what-?”

“That it wouldn’t matter to me?”

“I don’t-“

“He’s my best FRIEND!” Orlando screeched, getting closer to Viggo, running out of pillows, slamming his fist into Viggo’s chest. The sound of the breath leaving Viggo’s body helped and he hit him again. “He was so hurt and you wouldn’t let me stay? How could you lie to me?”

Viggo’s strong hand wrapped around his next fist, the one aiming a little lower for a jab in the ribs. He caught the other hand just as easy, gaining his breath. Orlando stood defiantly before him, glaring up into hard eyes.

“I didn’t lie to you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, hard and furious. “He hurt Jared, what else could I do but keep you away from him?”

“I thought we were suppose to be equal,” Orlando spat, trying to yank his hands free. He just wanted to keep hitting him. Hitting him until the pain in his body stopped. “I thought we weren’t going to keep anything from each other. I thought you trusted me!”

“I couldn’t trust him! It has nothing to do with you!” Viggo’s voice was finally rising, his anger clashing with Orlando’s. Surprisingly it helped, feeling the strong will pushing against his, rising up to meet him.

“It has everything to do with me. If you had trusted me it would have never been this bad.”

“How am I suppose to trust a man who rapes boys?”

“I am not a Boy!” Orlando got right into Viggo’s face, breathing furiously, his whole world reverberating in those blue eyes. “I am your lover, I am spending the rest of my life with you. There are things I should know, whether or not you think it’s best for me.”

“Even if it means Karl raped Jared?” The words were nasty, harsh for Viggo, but Orlando refused to flinch away.

“Especially if it means that.” Orlando glared, almost grateful that Viggo didn’t look away either. “How would you feel if someone told you Hugo raped Sean?”

“He wouldn’t-“

“How would you feel,” Orlando cut him off, “if someone told you the person you trusted with your life had hurt someone close to you? How about betrayed? Maybe hurt? Then what if you found out no one had bothered to get his side of the story?” His next words were a little bitter, “I know I’d want my lover to trust me enough to hear it out. To listen to what I had to say about it.”

“Maybe I would want my lover to protect me,” Viggo hissed, eyes snapping. “Maybe I would be sick of everyone expecting me to do everything for them.”

“Is that what you think? That I do nothing for you?” Orlando tore one hand free, reaching up to grab onto the strands of sandy hair, yanking him down closer. Pulling him closer into his skin. “That you have to take the world on your shoulders, to protect me from it?”

The look in Viggo’s eyes was enough of conformation.

“Maybe you should share it around a little, it’d solve your little problem.”

Orlando meant to fling Viggo away, to stalk out, let him think it over a bit. But he surged up into him, lips crashing against the man above him. There was teeth, fingers clawing against his skin, tugging at his clothes. There was ripping, the thin fabric coming away, large hands bruising his hips. The wall was against his back, the back of his head connecting against the stones. The pain sharpened his senses and Orlando twisted, gripping at the wrist and curling it up into the middle of the bigger man’s back.

Viggo broke the savage kiss with a cry as Orlando pulled sharply at the wrist, forcing the odd angle. Slipping out through the effective gap he’d made Orlando pressed Viggo into the wall, rocking his hard cock against the Prince. Viggo snarled, struggling as Orlando’s quick fingers loosened his breeches enough to push them down. There wasn’t much time to think as his fingers wormed between his buttocks, forcing the way into his passage, curling quickly against his numb. This cry was entirely different and the struggles stuttered before continuing, trying to throw Orlando off him.

Orlando pressed against his back, his own wrist at an odd angle as he continued to rub against him, second finger worming in, pressing a little more insistent, feeling Viggo’s breathing change. He bit down hard against the Princes shoulder, feeling him groan beneath his teeth.

“Yield,” he breathed into Viggo’s skin, three fingers moving in and out, sweat slicking the walls, his body already giving way to what was coming.

“No,” he growled, the words stubborn, his struggles sharper. Orlando wouldn’t let go.

“Give in to me,” Orlando sucked a little at the skin before him, feeling the shudder go through his frame. “Is it really so hard to let go?”

“Yes,” he howled as Orlando squeezed in a fourth finger, bucking unconsciously into it. “It’s not yours to bear.”

“It is,” Orlando cooed, “everything that happens to you affects me. The sooner you get used to sharing your burdens the better it’ll feel. Promise not to keep me in the dark any longer.”

Viggo didn’t answer, now moaning, no longer struggling. Orlando pulled his fingers free, still holding Viggo against the wall. It was rough, it was hard to find your way one handed and with no help from your partner, but with a couple of ill positioned jabs he found Viggo’s hole, pushing up into him.

Using the wrist as a pulling point Orlando could set up a good rhythm, freeing the other hand to reach around and grab Viggo. He was hard and weeping, barely keeping his cock from rubbing raw against the stones. Orlando pinched carefully at the base, using the trick Jared had taught them to starve off completion against his Prince. Viggo’s moan was desperate and Orlando used his advantage to shove hard against his weakspot.

“Promise me, or I’ll walk out that door and never return to this bedroom.”

Viggo cursed furiously. “That’s not fair!”

“I can’t be your lover if you don’t trust me.” Orlando rested his head against the stretch of muscle before him. “Let me in, Viggo.”

There was a small, despairing noise against the wall and Orlando felt his body give in moments before the choked ‘yes’ passed his lips. Orlando let go of the wrist, grabbing his hip, pulling at the cock as Viggo pressed against him, shoving Orlando’s cock deeper as they met each other’s frenzied thrusts.

Viggo came first, howling to the walls, spurting all over them, coating Orlando’s fingers. With a groan Orlando could only follow, Viggo squeezing around him, emptying within him. Soon only their shallow breathing could be heard, Orlando resting against his back as Viggo fell into the wall.

Carefully pulling out Orlando breathed in relief to find that he had stretched enough so that Viggo didn’t bleed and then led the unresisting man back to their bed. Viggo waited, fingers ghosting down Orlando’s body, as he pulled back the bedcovers, pressing the man gently into bed. Kissing slack lips Orlando moved quickly to the bathroom, cleaning himself and grabbing a cloth. He spoke quickly to one of the men by the door, trusting him to circulate the message and returning to his lover.

Viggo’s eyes were watching the door as he come back in and Orlando moved silently to the bed, cleaning his lover before pulling a light sheet over the two of them. Viggo seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as Orlando pulled him closer, pressing their bodies together. 

“Now sleep, you have no more people to deal with till morning.”

“But-“

“Hush,” Orlando told him somewhat sternly, “it will fix itself for later.” Viggo looked like he wanted to say more, but he nodded, kissing Orlando gently. It reminded him how wonderful his first days with Viggo had felt.

“I don’t think you do nothing for me,” Viggo whispered into his hair after a few moments.

“I know you think of me as your equal,” Orlando smiled against his skin. “We just need to work better at showing it.”

Viggo hummed against him, but Orlando guessed he must be too close to sleep to talk more. He knew that it would be a while before they took each other for granted again. So he kissed the small patch of skin at the hollow of Viggo’s throat and let the even breathing put him to sleep.


	82. Chapter 82

LXXXII  
by Beryll

Sean winced when he heard the shriek from Viggo's bedroom. It was Orlando and he was mighty angry. With Viggo not exactly in the best of moods it would get quite hot in there. The moment Viggo had sent Orlando away from their talk with Karl Sean had known his prince was in a lot of trouble. But that was for the two of them to sort out. Sean just hoped Viggo would be bright enough to not antagonize Orlando further. The Prince needed his kitten - more than either of them was aware, Sean was sure.

One of the guards posted at the entrance to Viggo's quarters stuck his head inside when another angry shout sounded but Sean silently shook his head at him. The poor guy really didn't need to get between the kitten's claws and an angry Prince.

Sean rubbed his face tiredly. The day was only half-over and already so much had happened. He should probably be thinking of the man they had so narrowly missed. Sean wasn't quite sure what would have happened if he had really had to face him. If he would have flown into a rage or would have curled up in despair again. He was almost glad it was postponed, that he would have more time to mentally prepare.

He was sitting under the tree in the yard, waiting for whatever the outcome would be of the talk between Karl and Jared taking place in Viggo's study. Sean couldn't really see Jared extracting a severe revenge from Karl but the kittens had surprised him before. But even is Jared decided to send Karl away for good - Sean needed to talk to him. Needed to tell him that he was willing to forgive the other man, try to mend the fragile friendship they had built. He owed Karl that for everything Karl had done for him.

Lost in his thoughts Sean only noticed that someone had entered the yard through the entrance when a soft yelp of pain drew his attention. When he looked up his heart stopped. It was Eric, supporting an obviously hurt Elijah. Dark bruises and cuts showed on his light skin wherever it was visible, one of his eyes was swollen shut, his lip split and just crusted over with dried blood.

In an instant Sean was on his feet and by his kitten's side, fear and rage gripping him, making his blood roar in his ears.

"Lij?! What on earth happened?? Who did this to you?!"

He was about to crush Lij in an embrace but then just checked himself, his arms moving helplessly unoccupied. Whoever was responsible for this would pay most dearly.

Elijah's reaction was not at all what he had expected. A small reassuring smile appeared on his face, followed by a wince at the split lip stretched uncomfortably. "I'm mostly all right." Lij said, though he looked anything but all right.

Sean glanced at Eric for any kind of explanation to discover that his childhood friend was grinning down at Lij quite proudly. Obviously Sean had missed something profoundly important. Before he could voice another question Lij continued.

"I ran into my brother in the hallway… we had… kind of a disagreement."

His brother? Through the haze of red rage Sean vaguely remembered that Lij had been sent to the Caliph's court as a gift by his own father.

"Where is that bastard?" he growled, bloody murder on his mind.

"I'm afraid he is quite dead." Eric now spoke up. "I… lost my temper… sorry…" He was still grinning widely and not sorry at all.

His words served like a bucket of cold water into Sean's face. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Lij looked terrible, hurt, but now Sean noticed it was only bodily wounds, in his eyes he saw a steely satisfaction, a strength and - yes - maturity that had been absent when Lij had run away earlier. And his anger at Eric had obviously dissipated as well.

Now much calmed Sean reached out and drew Lij into a much gentler embrace, more to reassure himself then the boy. For a moment Lij resisted, his back stiff, but then he melted against Sean suddenly, sighing softly.

"He fought quite bravely." Eric explained and now Sean was starting to understand why his friend was grinning so proudly. Of course he would approve of the kitten growing claws. 

Sean looked down at Lij, a smile forming on his face as well. "Is that so?" he asked.

Lij looked up at him, an impossible blush creeping into his bruised face. "I… tried…" Then he squared his shoulder. "I did not yield."

If he had not already loved Lij with all his heart he would have now. To see him grow so suddenly was not at all what Sean had expected. It somehow did not separate Lij from him, it made him feel even closer. He realized he was as proud of him as Eric.

"Well done, love." He said, leaning down and kissing the top of Lij's head.

It seemed those were the perfect words as whatever pain had lingered in Lij's eyes disappeared to be replaced by pure joy.

"I took him to see that Lady… what's her name… Liv… to take care of his wounds." Eric said, "But he needs to rest. I think this was enough adventure for one day, don't you think, little lion?"

"I'm not tired." Lij complained, but he was leaning heavily on Sean now.

"A warrior needs to rest and tend his wounds to be able to fight another day." Eric admonished sternly and Sean couldn't help but grin. He still remembered Eric saying the same thing to a 12 year old Viggo many years ago.

Sean resisted the urge to pick Lij up and carry him to bed. If his kitten was growing into a lion he ought to be treated like one. He led the boy over to his room, Eric trailing behind them. Lij let himself be tugged into bed without another complaint but when Sean was about to get up from his bedside he took hold of his hand. His blue eyes were more serious than Sean had ever seen them before when he spoke.

"I love you so much." He said softly, "I behaved like a stupid child. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been jealous."

Sean smiled. "And I love you," he answered, somehow knowing that this was all the reassurance Lij needed.

The boy nodded quietly.

This time Sean made it to the doorway, before Lij spoke up again, his speech already jumbled with sleepiness.

"Sean…? Will you teach me how to fight…?"

"Of course I will, love, anytime."

With a satisfied "Hmpf." Lij snuggled against his pillow.

Sean let the curtain fall closed behind him, his attention now fully shifting to Eric. "Thank you for finding him." He said.

"Well you all seemed a little preoccupied with other matters and I thought the boy needed someone to look after him." Eric sighed, the smile slipping from his face. "Viggo was never the most observant person but I didn't expect you to not notice how distressed Lij was when he ran away." 

The look Eric now turned on Sean was piercing. It held a clear message. 'Talk to me.' Sean bit his lip. Unable to look the other man in the eyes he looked at his feet, knowing full well that he presented the image of a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. If only that had been all. But obviously the waiting game was over. Eric would not relent, now that he had decided to force the issue.

He winced when Eric put a heavy hand on his shoulder that was meant to reassure, but he managed not to pull away. Eric didn't deserve this. He deserved to know. Still the words just wouldn't come. Sean felt like he was pushing against a boulder blocking the only exit from the cave he had locked himself into. Eric would not desert him, everything would be easier with him knowing, he tried to convince himself. Just opening his mouth seemed impossibly hard.

"I…"

Sean closed his eyes tightly, his hands balling into fists, fingernails cutting into flesh, knuckles turning white.

"When I followed Viggo into the desert I was captured by slave traders." He forced the words out, for the first time speaking out loud what had happened. "They raped me. I can't remember much. They tried to break me and they came very close. Then they sold me and Viggo found me."

There was so much more, so many horrible details, so much pain, so much despair, but Sean kept it locked tightly. He would not break down now. Still he could not look up at his best friend. He needed to know Eric still looked at him with respect, with love. But he just couldn't look up.

He didn't have to as bear-like arms wrapped around him tightly. And it was all right. There was no reason to flee this embrace, this was what he had longed for all this time, he realized, his head dropping against Eric's shoulder, all tension flow out of him like water. This was safety.

Eric's brow came to rest on his shoulder. He did not speak. No gentle reassurance, no attempt at making him feel better, no words to sooth a pain so deep it could not be erased. Just a firm rock to cling to, unconditional love.

Silence spread inside Sean at last, the voices falling away at last. They could not reach him through the impenetrable shield that was Eric.

"Thank you." Sean whispered, not trusting his own voice but discovering that it was steady.

"Always, love."


	83. Chapter 83

LXXXIII  
By Mel

The morning saw the many wounds along Elijah's body making themselves known in the most violent of ways. It was happy to remind him of every punch and kick his brother had landed on it, making him moan desperately trying not too move in anyway to aggravate it.

"Elijah?"

Knowing perfectly well that he must look a right mess, Elijah cracked open his eye. Jared's blue eyes watched him gently, smiling as he woke. 

"Orlando will wake up soon, you should drink this, Liv dropped it off a little while ago."

Elijah eyed the drink in distrust, Liv seemed to have a perchance of giving him things that made him want to sleep even more. Jared read the look correctly, moving it a little out of the way.

"If you want to brave Orlando without it..."

Scowling as much as he could Elijah reached out, someone grabbing his arm and helping him into a seated position. Billy was standing beside him, looking sympathetic, even more so as Elijah grimaced on the fowl tasting liquid. After a few minutes he was able to collect himself enough to speak.

"Where were you two yesterday?"

Billy shrugged, "napping. By the time I woke up Eric said there would be no more guests till today and that we were to let you sleep."

"I was with Karl." Jared grinned, his words mysterious enough to make Elijah wonder what had happened.

"The real question is; what happened to you?" Dominic came into the room, followed by the Lion cub who was chasing the tassels on his belt. He carried a shallow bowl and cloth. "Don't look at me as if I'm not capable of caring for you and answer the question." Sitting on the bed beside him he took up the cloth, moving his arm with care to wipe the blood from around his wounds. Elijah could hear Dave growling as he caught his prize.

"I met with my brother, and we had a disagreement."

"A disagreement that involved his fist meeting your eye?" Billy tipped his head up a little, moving the hair out of the way of his blackened eye. "Where is this brother now?" The words weren't loud or hard, spoken in Billy's ridiculously kind manner, but there was an edge of steel to it.

"He is dead, Eric found him after he'd done this and killed him," it was easy enough to say in the end, it was true. The look that Jared and Billy shared though was more then a subtle hint that Elijah needed to piece things together.

"There are rumours," Dominic said slowly from beside him, confirming Elijah's guess, "that there was more then a disagreement involved. The servants say he tried to rape you and that Eric became an enraged beast to protect you."

"Is it true," even Jared looked upset and more then a little angry. Elijah had no doubt the other boy knew what it was like to have no other option then to roll over and take the abuse dished out. It just reaffirmed Elijah's want to strengthen his body. He wanted to help protect them, or least to help. "Did your brother try to rape you?"

Not able to say it out loud, Elijah nodded. The faces of his friends all showed the same fury, even Dom's fingers tightened on his arm a little.

"If Eric hadn't come when he did, I would have killed him."

The stunned looks on Billy and Jared's face were hardly surprising. Even he was shocked at the strength in his words. He was the youngest of the kittens, and by far the most delicate. He hardly looked able to fend someone off, let alone kill. But Elijah knew even as he said the words that they were true. He would have continued to fight, he would have not just have given Leo what he had assumed he had the right to take.

"Good." Dominic moved behind him, being just as gentle with the marks on his back. "If you hadn't I would have had to have some of my own words to say to him. It is a pity he died so quickly though."

Jared and Billy's grim faces echoed much the same sentiments as Dom stated. Dave purred loudly, bringing the chewed tassel over for Elijah, dropping it proudly in his lap.

"Lij? By Allah, what-?"

Orlando had entered the room, a stricken look coursing across his features. He was across the room in three strides, uncertain when he reached Elijah. He looked as if he wanted to hug him with all his might, but the shear volume of the injuries made him pause. Elijah smiled a little, opening his arms.

Orlando was gentle but it didn't stop it from hurting a little. Elijah, held onto him, it was something that he'd missed, Orlando being all tactile, needing him. His first friend, who needed more comfort, more protection then anyone else, but gave it back in spades. When he pulled back his fingers were everywhere, touching in gentle strokes, as if cataloguing them all inside his mind. He fired off a hundred questions, the most difficult of which Jared and Billy filled in the silence when Elijah couldn't find his tongue.

In the doorway Viggo stood, watching them, his brow furrowed in worry which gave way to the same pride Elijah had seen in Sean and Eric's faces. The Prince even seemed a little pleased upon hearing his declaration of learning to fight. He didn't intrude, but he made sure to catch Elijah's eyes, a proud nod before leaving the Kittens to themselves until it was time for the next dignitary to arrive.

***

"They're growing up aren't they?"

Sean tipped his head back as Viggo came into the bath, looking a little bemused. He stripped out of his robe, joining Sean in the water, wincing a little as it hit certain parts. It made Sean grin as the Prince sat gingerly.

"It certainly sounded like it yesterday afternoon, how was Orlando?"

Viggo gave him a withering look. "he just had to... remind me of a few things."

"And you're sufficiently reminded now?" Sean asked with a small laugh.

"More then sufficiently," Viggo muttered dryly. He sobered quickly, "you know about Elijah's brother then."

A solemn nod. "He returned yesterday afternoon, looking like someone had ripped him to shreds. If Eric hadn't been there, things could have been so much worse."

"You doubt Elijah?"

"No, just the amount of pain his brother would have inflicted. Eric appearing and initiating his own form of justice smothered things over very nicely. Things wouldn't have been nearly as neat if Elijah had killed his brother," still Sean thought, easy back, it possibly would have been better for Elijah. The thought of his own hands wrapping around the neck of his faceless tormentor seemed to still his troubled mind a little.

"I was not awake to hear of how Jared faired with Karl, what punishment did he decide?"

Sean could hear the stress in Viggo's voice dissipate. It was always there, it was simply that he worried about everyone constantly. Back home he was much the same, there were ample family members, friends, favourite horses and troops to worry over. When it seemed to get too much Sean and Eric would put their permanently thinking best friend into the bath, letting his mind dissolve in the liquid, forgetting most, if not all of his troubles.

"Actually, you can ask him that now."

"Hmmm?" Viggo opened one eye, stiffening slightly as he noticed Karl had entered the bath. His eyes were resolutely fixed to the tiles on the wall behind the two naked men and his hands loosely behind his back. Sean had seen him enter, but hadn't directed any attention to him, but whatever he had to say mustn't have been important enough to interrupt their conversation. In the end Sean had taken pity on the other man obviously so uncomfortable at being there.

"Yes Captain?" Viggo asked, his voice cold, making Karl's stance tighten.

"My Lord, his Highness the Caliph requests dinner with his son at the end of the birthday celebrations." Karl didn't stumble over his delivery of the request, but it certainly sounded a little strained on his lips. Sean guessed he was so used to talking to them as friends or not at all.

"Very well Captain, let my father know it will be a pleasure to have dinner with him. That will be-"

"What punishment did Jared decide on, Karl?" In contrast to Viggo's coldness Sean sounded remarkably warm. Karl looked a little baffled at the question, shooting a decidedly worried glance in Viggo's direction before schooling his features.

"Jared said he would call on me for a night to inflict my punishment," Karl said quietly. Sean smiled, when he had seen the Mouse earlier, he looked decidedly happy, if not mischievous. Karl didn't know it, but he would have an incredibly interesting night when Jared called on him.

"If that's all-"

"It's not." Sean swam through the bath, stopping in front of the Captain. "Look at me Karl."

It was a severe fight but Karl's eyes met his. Sean wanted to erase the sorry that was in them, but it was something Karl would have to do in time.

"I know why you raped Jared. I know why you couldn't say you were sorry for it. And I'm sure Jared has already said he forgives you for it, though you won't have forgiven yourself." Karl opened his mouth to speak but with a firm shake of his head Sean ceased the sounds. "I want you to know that I forgive you as well, and that I hope we can be brothers in arms again, when you're ready."

Silence reigned for sometime as Karl goggled down at him.

"What you have done will take time to heal our relationship," Viggo's words were still cold, but not so much as before. "But as Jared and Sean have forgiven you there is no reason to keep you from them. There is a going away dinner for Eric organised a few nights from now, you may join us."

"I can't-"

"Your presence is requested Captain, will you really refuse?"

For a moment Karl looked as if he would, but shook his head. "Of course I will be there, my Lord."

"Good," Viggo's tone grew decidedly warmer. "I believe Orlando would have more then my hide if you were not there."


	84. Chapter 84

LXXXIV  
by Beryll

The warm evening air was filled with the sound of small birds chirping, saying goodnight, of water gently splashing in a fountain nearby, of leaves rustling in the trees in the first cool breeze blowing in over the walls of the secluded garden. The ceaseless chatter of voices, the endless patting of busy feet was blessedly absent.

It was not that Hugo did not enjoy entertaining guests. In fact he enjoyed it tremendously, especially when he was at the centre of attention. But he was just as glad when he finally had his palace back to himself, life returned to the usual, more sedate pace.

Politically his birthday celebrations had been a success. Many new alliances had been forged, old allegiances renewed. It was a priceless chance to have all of them in one place - friend and foe alike, and Hugo made sure he used it every year. His year had been especially important as he had introduced his new adopted son and heir to his guests.

Some of them had been outraged. A foreigner taking precedence over Hugo's own flesh and blood. A disgrace. An affront. Hugo had not deemed it necessary for them to know that he had discussed this with Viggo before he had adopted the Danish Prince who had so suddenly turned up at his doorstep like a gift of Allah. They had agreed that the only way to shift attention from Numair and Kalila to Viggo was if Viggo was heir apparent. Viggo wanted neither the title nor the role. He would abstain as soon as Numair reached maturity. Viggo's honor in this was beyond doubt to Hugo.

But nobody else needed to know about this particular part of their plan. After all it would have ruined the whole ruse had it found the wrong ears.

And their plan seemed to be working well, after all it had nearly cost Viggo his life. That whoever their enemy was had access to magic and was willing to use it deeply troubled Hugo but he kept his worries to himself. This was not something to trouble Viggo with. He had talked at length with the Sultan's ambassador about the nature of the attack on Viggo and had been promised that the matter would be looked into by the Sultan's magician. It might be months until he would hear back but Hugo was hoping against hope their unknown opponent would take a while to mount his next attack.

"What troubles you so to crease your brow like this?" a gentle voice interrupted his musings. 

With a smile Hugo looked at his single guest who was sharing his dinner tonight. All traces of illness and the near fatal brush with Au Nafud's wrath had by now faded from Viggo's features. He was calm, relaxed, and as far as Hugo could tell he was enjoying this quiet dinner as much as the Caliph himself did.

"The past, the future, the usual." Hugo replied with a rueful smile. "I guess a ruler's mind never stills, even with such pleasant company."

Viggo's smile mirrored his own. "Strange you should say that. My father used to say the same when my mother asked this question." He shook his head, his grey eyes full of memories. "I used to think it an excuse but now I think I am beginning to understand how much responsibility can keep you preoccupied. It makes you lose track of the simple matters right in front of you." He rubbed his nose thoughtfully. "I'm afraid I'm not nearly as good at juggling my official duties and my private ones as you or my father."

"You are trying and that is really what counts. We must not always be perfect as long as we strife to be." Hugo said with a reassuring smile. "And you are still young. Don't expect too much of yourself. You have time to grow into your role. As long as you never forget that there are always your friends and advisors to share your burdens you will do well."

Viggo nodded. "Yes, so I was told a few days ago quite sternly by one of my kittens. Sometimes they seem to have more sense than me."

Hugo laughed softly. Viggo was blessed with his kittens indeed. They took good care of him, all of them in their own unique way. He still didn't approve of the fact that Viggo had taken in the young assassin but so far it seemed to work out. With Karl keeping an eye on that dangerous little viper Hugo was sure that Viggo was well protected.

"You should never underestimate them." He told Viggo. "Young minds have a special view on the world, They notice things we overlook too easily."

"I know I am blessed with all their love. Just sometimes I am not sure if I deserve it."

Now Hugo could not suppress a small snicker. "That, my son, is not for you to decide." He picked up a honeyed date and bit into it, savouring the sweet juices. "But speaking of your friends reminds me: That young prince's father… what's his name… Elijah… sends his apologizes for the misbehaving of his other son. I am to tell you that if you require any compensation for the damage done to your kitten he will of course pay it."

Viggo's answer was a soft growl and Hugo grinned. "I thought so. I let him know that we were quite satisfied with the blood of his other son."

He watched with amusement as Viggo busied his hands with tearing apart a grilled chicken leg. His adopted son was quite protective of his kittens. Maybe a little overprotective but that was not a bad trade in a ruler. After all he had to care for all his people.

"Your friend Eric reacted swiftly there. He seems to be a good man." Hugo tried to distract Viggo from his darkening mood. The subject seemed well chosen as Viggo reacted with a smile.

"That he is indeed. I have known him nearly as long as I can think back and he has always been a good friend and a honourable warrior. I wish he could stay. He has more common sense in his small finger than I have in all of me."

Hugo tapped his chin thoughtfully. "The trading agreement he was sent here to talk about is quite lucrative and we discussed building on it. Maybe his king would be interested in sending your friend here as a permanent ambassador?"

"That would be wonderful though I do not know if he wishes to stay. The climate is not at all what we are used to from home and I don't know if he would ever feel at home here. Even when me and Sean are here. But I will ask him." Viggo sighed softly. "Even I miss home often enough. Some thing I will probably never get used to here."

"I understand. It is hard for a tree to grow new roots in such alien soil. Will you tell me a little more about your home?" Hugo asked. "We have hardly had time to talk at leisure lately with all that has been happening. And you do have a gift for telling a story."

Viggo smiled. "You flatter me. But I will try to be as amusing as possible."

It took him a few minutes but then his voice drifted into his storyteller timbre again, his hands alive with wide gestures as he told Hugo of his homelands. Of harsh winters with snowstorms so cold they could suck every bit of warmth from a man's body and leave him frozen. Of hunting in a forest, crystallized with ice, where every tree reflected the sun like it was hung with diamonds. Of great and dangerous bears and fierce wolf packs. Of his father's castle that stood against the encroaching wilderness of the north like a shield bearing guardian of civilisation.

He talked of his family, his brother, all warriors and lords in their own right - and all heroes in the eyes of Viggo, their youngest brother. Of his beautiful sisters and their husbands and children. 

He loved all these people dearly, Hugo realized. And he missed them. Still he had never mentioned the wish to go back.

In part it was honour that held him here in the hot south, Hugo knew, the feeling that he owed his life and the firm knowledge that his life shielded the lives of two innocent children. But it was also pride. There was till anger and spite in Viggo's voice when he spoke of his father - a strong and wise man, Hugo thought - who ruled over his family just like he ruled his land - fair but stern and unforgiving. At least that was how Viggo saw him. Hugo silently wondered how much it must have grieved Viggo's father to lose his youngest. How much he probably still worried about his lost son.

He would have to send out a letter to the king and let him know that his son was alive and well, Hugo decided. Viggo need not know about it but it was cruel to leave Viggo's parents unknowing of their son's fate.

The evening grew late but still they sat, not only occasionally nibbling on some pastries. A tale of Viggo about the bandits that often troubled his home had triggered a matching story of Hugo's about the nomad tribes who regularly preyed the caravans crossing what they perceived to be their territory. Generations of Caliph's had tried to subdue them and failed.

"If only we could at least forge an alliance with them." Hugo sighed. "They are fierce warriors, all of them, and they know the desert like no others. They could be a major asset but they refuse to bow to anyone."

Viggo grinned recklessly. "One day I will conquer them for you and make them swear allegiance to you." He promised.

Hugo shook his head with a smile. "The folly of youth." He said. "At your age I swore the same and look how far I have come."

For a while they sat in silence, both sated and food and drink and words.

"I think I should retire now to my bed or my kittens will come looking for me." Viggo said at last.

"So I should - or my wives will have my head on a silver platter." Hugo replied, smiling at his adopted son. 

Viggo got up and stretched, then bowed and left, wishing Hugo a good night. Watching him go, Hugo silently again thanked Allah for the company and friendship of this honourable man. Then he too retired.


	85. Chapter 85

LXXXV  
By Mel

This dinner felt so much better then the last. There was no silly pranks that backfired, no hatred towards each other, well, at least no more than usual. Aside from the fact it was to say goodbye to Eric there was little to upset the night. Karl was here and the lion cub Dave snoozed happily in his lap.

"Shall we dance?" Elijah asked across the table from his place next to Sean making Orlando grin. Even Elijah seemed to be having a good time for a change, much more then last. His bruises were fading and here, with the people he felt most comfortable with, Orlando actually heard him laugh on occasion. It was such a change from the vicious, troublesome boy Orlando had thought lumped at his side a couple of months ago.

He passed Dave to his left, Jared taking the cub in a way to disturb it the least. Jared had also changed a lot. He was shy at first, and a little unsure of his place in the palace. His mouse like behaviour had rapidly changed when he had begun to realise how out of place and unsure they all were, from Viggo and Sean, to Billy and even Dominic. While Eric seemed to watch over them all like an older brother, Jared fussed and cared like a Mother Hen over everyone. Even Karl.

When Viggo had told him the other man would be coming to dinner Orlando could do very little to contain his excitement, which he had been happy to shower Viggo with. Karl seemed somewhat reluctant, but he had turned up which was the important thing. And after a few minutes, with Jared and Sean setting a friendly pace with the Captain the rest of the Kitten's followed their example. Soon Karl was laughing at Elijah and Dominic's storytelling of trying to fit Billy into a robe.

Billy laughed along with everyone else, even he letting loose in the comfortable atmosphere. Billy was never overly stiff or nervous around the Lords and dignitaries that had visited, but the change in being with just them was obvious. He was happier amongst them, forcing many of the shadows from his eyes that Orlando sometimes saw. Seated beside Dominic Orlando was happy to see how animated they both were, how they seemed to feed off each others joy.

Dom was still the street rat Orlando remembered. It was something that was different from the rest of the boys. Whilst everyone else had changed it was like Dom hadn't. He never seemed to relax, his eyes always shifted towards exits. Even though he was enjoying the dinner there was the slight turn of his head whenever a foreign sound went past the door. He appeared friendly with everyone, but not close. He had also sat himself as far away from Karl and Viggo as he could manage.

Viggo had been quiet at first. Even though he seemed to be trying, having Karl so close was difficult. Orlando knew the Princes fear, that he couldn't quiet forgive the other man for what he'd done to Jared or how he had hurt Sean. But being seated between Eric and Sean, both of whom were enticed by the relaxing night and the honeyed mead they were drinking, began telling increasingly embarrassing stories. It was a rare chance to hear of what life was back in their homeland and Orlando got caught up as much as the rest of the kittens.

Orlando had never been able to tell if Sean was upset or not, but with the happiness from both Elijah and Eric being as contagious as it was, he was sure Sean was doing better. The blonde man had to try and fend off increasingly probing questions as Eric's stories took on a decidedly more interesting turn involving Sean's first time with a woman. The curve of his ears turned red which seemed only to fuel the questions but he managed to keep most of the details to himself, stating that while she was a lovely girl, his interests had lain elsewhere.

Eric had grown louder and more boisterous the longer the night had lasted. Last dinner he had entertained but not to this degree, and with the whole room happy and content he fed off it. He soaked up the atmosphere, listening, laughing and talking more then any around him. Orlando could see the looks he sent in Sean's direction in the quiet pauses. They made Orlando happy, especially when Sean, who had drunk quiet a bit, returned them.

At Elijah's request for a dance, as rare as it was, Orlando couldn't say no. Not that he wanted too. Bouncing up he took Elijah's hand, walking beside him for a change instead of being led. Dom's lyre started, the sounds more uplifting then usual, filling their feet with the urge to lift and move. They acted completely spontaneously, taking the cues from each other, smiling and giddy, their laughter bounding through the room. 

With Dom's final notes they were left breathing heavily, smiling brightly and bowing to the applause of their friends. The night, which was so lovely, was coming to an end.

Eric opened his arms and Orlando fell into them, being held tenderly in the giant man's embrace. It was all too much, to know that Eric was leaving so soon, Orlando wondered when he'd ever see him again. It could be years, it could be never. He held on extra tight.

"I will come back little Kitten," Eric soothed his fears some, stroking his back. "Till then I expect that you will have to look after Viggo. He's completely incapable of looking after himself."

"I am sitting right next to you, you know?"

Orlando laughed, it gave him a good chance to dry his tears and nod. He removed himself from Eric's lap, he wasn't the only one who wanted to say good bye.

"No one can keep him in line as you can," Eric winked as if not hearing a word Viggo had said.

Jared, Billy and Dominic were all courteous, thanking him again for helping Elijah, but they didn't hug him. When he finished his bow Jared moved over to Karl, bending and whispering in his ear before leaving the yard, heading for Viggo's office room.

The change in Karl was immediate. He lost most of his normally healthy colour and finished his drink in a swift gulp. He said goodbye to Eric calmly, but Orlando could see the slight tremor in his hands. Still he left the yard without a backward glance or a word of complaint and Orlando kept the urge to run after him at bay. He and Jared must still have some things to work out.

In contrary to the other goodbyes Elijah also crawled into the big warrior's lap. He held on just as tight as Orlando had. Dom and Billy moved off to the Kitten’s room, both saying a good night to Orlando and Viggo. Eric was talking soothing words to Elijah, none of which carried in the night. Sitting beside his Prince Orlando took his hand. Eric’s presence would be missed.

Sitting back Elijah nodded, his eyes dry, but sadness written over his face. As he got up Eric took up Viggo. At least Viggo wasn’t entirely dwarfed by Eric’s size, hugging him back.

“Keep an eye on them all, Little Brother,” Eric said against Viggo’s neck, “and no more getting into stupid situations, unless you want me to come back and deal with them.”

“That’s hardly a reason to keep me out of trouble,” Viggo smiled, “I will miss you, Eric. You have been a good influence on my Kittens. And on me.”

Eric gave him a look as if he didn’t quiet believe the words and looked to Orlando and Elijah. “Keep an eye on him please. He gets in trouble ridiculously easily.”

Orlando laughed, nodding, giving Eric a quick kiss. Fingers threading into his hair stopped him from moving away too quickly, deepening the touch. When Orlando finally managed to pull away he was breathless.

“Something to look forward to when we next meet,” Eric grinned, kissing the tip of his nose just as Elijah tugged him to his feet, saying goodnight to Eric and Sean.

“Come my Lord, I believe it’s time for bed.”

Viggo looked just as surprised as Orlando felt when Elijah held his hand out for the Prince to take. It was the first time Orlando could remember Elijah asking for anything from Viggo. The hand in his squeezed and Orlando thought he could rise off the ground with the happiness spread through him at the simple act.

Taking his Kitten’s hand, Viggo stood, bidding his friends good night and allowing both Elijah and Orlando to lead him to the bedroom.

***

Elijah led both Viggo and Orlando into the Prince’s room. Eric and Sean needed some time to themselves and as much as Elijah wanted to spend more time with them, he knew how important the last night was to them. 

Besides he had spent hardly any time with anyone else of late. The look of delight on Orlando’s face when he had lifted Viggo to his feet was testament enough of that. Orlando was his first friend in this place, and though he loved Sean, Orlando was just as important. The Prince as well.

The bedroom was already lit for the night, the candles about the bed shining in the dark. The shadows across the bed made him pause just past the threshold. Stretching he let Orlando’s and Viggo’s hands fall, lifting the shirt from his body and letting it fall to the floor. Viggo, who had never once forced what was rightfully his to take, brushed his fingers almost unconsciously against the bare skin of his back.

Elijah stepped towards the bed, but away from the touch. Orlando followed his example, ridding himself of his shirt as he sat on the edge of the bed beside Elijah. Viggo reached the bed soon after, his clothes remaining on, standing between Orlando’s legs, cupping his face in his hands. He kissed him firmly, Orlando returning the touch, as if he was trying to taste Eric against the boy’s lips.

When he pulled back, Elijah reached out, cupping Viggo’s face, dragging it towards his own. The kiss was a little unsure but the Prince melted against his lips, a soft sound escaping between them, entering Elijah’s own mouth.

“We don’t have to do this,” Viggo gasped when Elijah let him speak again.

“No, we don’t,” Elijah agreed, impatient hands tugging the Prince’s shirt over his thoroughly surprised head. “But I want to.” While Sean’s chest had been almost completely bare of hair, Viggo’s had a light spattering of fine hair. Elijah ran his fingers through it, intrigued by the difference in texture. Viggo also had scars that he brushed his fingers over, delighting in the gasp it caused.

“But-“

“No buts,” Elijah whispered against the skin, "no questions or worries. No thoughts. My brother had all the wrong ideas, and only served as a reminder too how special being here with everyone is." He smiled up at Viggo. "So I want to be with you tonight."

For a moment Elijah thought Viggo might refuse him, the look in his eyes said as much. But he said nothing, leaning forward, taking Elijah's lips in his own. Orlando's fingers danced up his spine and Elijah wrapped himself around his Prince, finally content in the place that was his home.


	86. Chapter 86

LXXXVI  
by Beryll

Karl wasn't quite sure what he felt as he followed Jared from the yard. It wasn't quite fear but something close to it. The knowledge that he was about to relinquish all control to the young slave who would, for this night, be his master. The knowledge that Jared had every reason to despise him, hurt him. Why would Jared show mercy after what Karl had done to him? On the other hand - what could Jared do to him that he had not yet endured in much worse versions. He was willingly accepting a punishment he deserved - that had to be better than submitting because he had no other option.

Still his hands were twitching nervously as he entered the Prince's office, just like he had done a few days ago. Then he had not really been able to feel fear either. He had been too confused, too many conflicting emotions crippling any kind of clear thought.

He had not really expected anything, his mind still dwelling on the fact that his father had so narrowly escaped them. But he had been shocked by the self-confident, cocky slave he had encountered. He couldn't help but feel betrayed. It was ridiculous really but he was angry at Jared. Had the slave been this strong at their last unfortunate encounter Karl was sure he wouldn't have been able to even touch him. It had been Jared's weakness then which had so fatally reminded him of the past. Had Jared fought back - even once, even just a tiny bit - Karl would have been able to regain control. Or so he tried to convince himself.

It didn't matter now. The deed was done and he was about to pay for it.

And it was worth paying. After all what he had most feared had not come to pass. He was not banned from the life and status he had fought so hard for. He might even regain the easy friendship he had shared with Sean and the Prince. That Sean would forgive him so readily still baffled Karl. What he had thought forever lost, Sean just offered with a smile. It was real and still Karl found himself unable to believe it. He needed to talk to Sean alone, to redefine their relationship, but between their various duties and the Caliph's birthday celebration there had been no time for that so far.

Even the kittens seemed willing to forgive him. They had been cool and reserved this evening - apart from Orlando of course - but not hostile either. Well, except Dominic who still had nothing but unconditional hatred for him. But that was to be expected.

After the brightly lit yard the Prince's office was filled with shadows, the only illumination the light of the silvery moon, peeking in through the high windows. It took Karl's eyes a moment to adjust, to make out Jared, who was leaning against the desk, his arms crossed in front of him. He didn't look anything like a slave. Or a whore for that matter. He looked so much in control that Karl had to resist the urge to kneel.

Not sure what to do Karl just waited. He wasn't sure but it felt like Jared's eyes were trailing over him, evaluating him.

When he spoke his words were not at all what Karl had expected. "Orlando tells me you are a good man." Jared said softly. "He says you saved him more times than he can count when he was still on the streets. That you protected him from slavers and brothel owners. That he does not understand how you could have ever hurt me. That it is not like you at all."

Of course Orlando would have tried anything in his power to protect him, Karl realized. That was just what Orlando was like.

"There are many things you can fault Orlando with," Jared continued, "but he is a good judge of character. I trust him and I even agree with him. When you apologized to me I thought I was talking to a different man then the one who raped me and then left me bleeding on the floor."

Karl winced at the blunt words but there was nothing for him to say. It was true.

"I was kind of preoccupied in that particular moment," now Jared sounded almost bemused, "but thinking about it now I can't help but feel that even then you were sorry for what you had just done. So tell me, Karl," he asked, quite deliberately forgoing any kind of honorific, "why did you do it?"

Karl swallowed hard. He did not want to talk about it, did not want to go back there, bring those memories to the surface but this was not for his enjoyment, this was punishment.

"My father is a slave trader," he explained quietly, knowing full well that his voice conveyed all the deeper pain he felt, "He specializes in breaking pleasure slaves. He tried to teach me how to do it but I failed. I fell in love with a boy. When my father realized he... he had that boy killed, he wanted me to do it but I refused..." He closed his eyes tightly against the onslaught of memories but it didn't help. Words tumbled from his mouth that he hadn't even told Orlando. "He had him tortured, raped by his men with me watching. The boy was begging for death, was begging me to do it but I... I just couldn't... I loved him... I was too weak... so it went on and on... he bled to death in the end."

Karl didn't open his eyes when he continued. "You look like him, very much so... when I first saw you I thought you were him, come back to taunt me. You were as weak as him... as me... when you came to my quarters I had just learned news of my father. I was confused... angry... I just lost it. I hated you for being weak... I so wanted you to fight back and you didn't..."

It was unfair to say this, unfair to blame Jared but Karl just hadn't been able to stop the words and now they were out.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered.

He looked up surprised when Jared's reaction was a dry chuckle. "That's funny, you know," he said, "because I really blame myself for not fighting back too. Be assured, should you ever try that again on me you will find yourself curled up on the floor, clutching your aching balls."

Karl gapped at him open mouthed, which made Jared laugh again.

"Now, Karl," Jared continued, "I want you to undress."

Of course he had suspected it would come to this but still Karl found himself shuddering at this cool command. Whatever Jared planned to do to him, he had obviously thought about it at length and knew exactly what he wanted.

For Karl there was nothing but to obey. With memories of his father still so close to the surface he couldn't help but wince as he took of his tunic. How often had his father ordered him to do this, the whip in his hand, sometimes cracking it to get a feel for it and instil additional fear into his son. Karl couldn't count the times he had been beaten for failing. It all melted together into one nightmare in his memories. There hadn't been a time when he had not been hurting all his youth until he had finally run away. 

He suppressed those thoughts. He thought it unlikely that he would get away with a beating here. This was about rape after all. It made bile rise in his throat as he realized that his father had never succeeded in forcing Karl to rape one of his slaves in training. That the only time Karl had done that was to Jared. He really did deserve this.

He took of his weapons belt, dropping it on top of the tunic, then his boots, his pants, finally standing in front of Jared naked.

His master for this night had not moved. He was still leaning against the desk, arms crossed coolly, his face in shadow as the moon was behind him.

"Come here and kneel." Jared commanded and again Karl obeyed. It was easy, really, Karl realized. Letting go of control meant he would not be able to hurt anyone, here, in this particular night. He didn't even have to be told to lower his head or lace his fingers behind his back. He knew the posture of an obedient pleasure slave by heart, had watched his father teach it to slaves all his youth.

Silence stretched but it did not matter now. Whatever his master decided to dish out Karl would accept. That was his place.

Some small voice in the back of his head chuckled at the irony of how easily he slipped into this. So that had been his father's mistake really: he should have trained his son to be a pleasure slave, not to try and make him a slave trader.

What would be first? Sucking his master, probably, to get him hard. Then get down on hands and knees, spread you legs, arch into your master's touch as if you like it, cry out as he enters you roughly, without any preparation, to let him know that he owns you, that he may do with you as he pleases. Push back even though it hurts, this is all about his pleasure, not yours. Even if he tears you, even if your stomach cramps up with the pain...

His dark thoughts were interrupted as Jared knelt opposite of him, taking his face in both hands, raising his head so they were eye to eye.

There was no harsh lust in those eyes, no cruel sneer on his face. Just gentle understanding.

"I won't hurt you Karl. Not now, not ever. You don't deserve it."

The words seemed alien, coming from far away. Why would Jared say that?

The thoughts were drowned out as Jared leaned forward and kissed him. Not forcing him, taking him but gentle touching lips to lips, coaxing him, kindling sparks. Their tongues met without Karl even realizing his mouth had opened to admit Jared entry. Shivers ran through him, Jared's hands still holding his face didn't give him much room to lean into his touch but he tried.

Then Jared mouth left his and trailed kisses along his jaw. Karl didn't resist as his head was tipped back, as his throat was kissed and nipped at. His body all tense with what he had feared was oversensitive to every touch. He could not prevent a soft moan from escaping him as Jared bit his shoulder gently and he felt Jared's mouth draw into a smile against his skin.

Jared's hands left his face to follow the curve of his neck downward, then ghost over his shoulders, his flanks to then find his cock. It had been soft with fear only moment before but now Karl felt blood rush through his veins at Jared's skilled touch, his cock hardening rapidly.

His eyes slipped close, his head still tipped back, his fingers clenching on each other. This felt good. Jared knew exactly how to touch a man, Karl suddenly remembered. And he was using every trick in the book to make Karl forget the world and all his worries. And there was nothing Karl could do to resist. He moaned again, louder this time, unable to help himself.

Still Jared's face was against Karl's shoulder, he could feel Jared's breath quicken with his own rising passion. It had been a long time this Karl had raped Jared and he had not touched anyone since. It didn't take Jared long to take him to the edge and only a few more hard strokes to push him over it. Karl came with a strangled cry and then slumped against Jared, who caught him in a gentle embrace.

"Shh," Jared's voice was soft, right next to his ear, "it's all right, it will all be all right."

Karl shuddered. He didn't resist when Jared reached behind him, when gentle but firm hands, disentangled his tense fingers.

"You are not my slave," Jared continued, "I have never had a slave nor wanted one." He fluidly rose to his feet and pulled Karl upward with him. "Come."

Gently he led Karl over to the low divan that the Prince sometimes used to receive guests. Karl let himself be laid down, his head spinning, trying to grasp the fact that there was no pain, no horror awaiting him.

"Why?" he managed to ask, as Jared slipped onto the divan next to him, now without clothing, "Why are you not punishing me?"

"Because I don't want to." Jared replied, amusement sparkling in his voice.

Then he kissed Karl again and coherent thought fled. It was hard to keep track of what Jared was doing, his hands seemed to be everywhere, his touch arousing Karl wherever it lingered. His mind was muddled with all the sensations and emotions. He only realized what Jared was doing when his lithe form straddled him, when his cock was suddenly firmly grasped and then the tight heat of Jared's body swallowed him.

He cried out, his hands grabbing at Jared's hips, his head thrown back. This was all wrong. He should have been the one to submit to Jared, not the other way around. And still it felt so right. He couldn't help but thrust upward but was stilled by a firm palm pressed against his stomach.

"Don't move." Jared commanded.

Shudder after shudder ran through Karl and a small yelp escaped him. He felt his mind corrode with the urge to move but he hung on with the rest of his will, trying to obey.

Slowly Jared lowered himself, impaling himself on Karl, sighing with pleasure. It was sweetest torture to Karl. His fingers flexed on Jared's hips but he kept still, every muscle taunt with the effort. The tight friction of Jared raising himself, then the heat of his body closing on Karl again - it seemed to continue forever. It was more delicious than anything Karl had ever felt and at the same time it was hell, as Jared picked up speed, at he set an ever increasing rhythm that was for his pleasure. He was using Karl, but in a whole different way than Karl had expected.

It was perfect.

He could feel passion build in Jared, felt how Jared clenched on him, how his motions drew jerky, his fingers clawing at Karl's chest, his thighs grabbing Karl tightly. And then Jared came, the only sounds he made a low groan of pleasure.

Karl felt like a bowstring ready to snap.

"Now you may." Jared whispered breathlessly.

Karl slammed into him hard, his hands grabbing at Jared. One thrust, two - and he came as well with a low, keening cry, his worlds collapsing into a myriad splinters of light and then just fading.

When his senses returned he found himself under a soft blanket with Jared snuggled against him, using his chest as a pillow.

As he moved Jared grumbled slightly. His voice was slurred with sleepiness when he spoke. "I have one last order for you tonight: Rest."

Karl obeyed gladly.


	87. Chapter 87

LXXXVII  
By Mel

Billy sat on the Kitten's bed, watching as Dominic moved around the room. Watching made the Mage smile. He was not, as he should be, dousing candles or readying the room for sleep. Instead his fingers dug within nooks and crannies through out where the Kittens stayed when other rooms were occupied. They lifted, played and carefully examined the objects that belonged to the others. A rouge brush of Orlando's, a sewing kit of Jared's. Even Billy's own dish of chalk and beads.

Dominic made it look like such a natural invasion of privacy that Billy had neither the heart nor inclination to stop him. Each object he picked up, Billy noted, he put back in a completely opposite fashion. Elijah's bells were hung from a drawer knob instead of in the drawer that he had gotten it out of. Billy knew none of the others would notice the next day, and that Dominic would scowl slightly when they didn't.

"Why do you do it if it annoys you?" Billy asked from the bed, kicking his shoes off as he did.

"Wishful thinking," Dominic answered dryly. "I'm hoping one of them will grow a new set of eyes and realise someone's been refilling through their things."

"Do you really want them to notice?" Billy lay back, his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. "Wouldn't that mean they wouldn't be themselves anymore?"

For a moment there was no sound from Dominic and Billy smiled to himself. It was something Dom wouldn't be able to deny, which would no doubt irritate him to no end, the kitten's should never be forced to be anyone but themselves. Billy knew he didn't really want them to notice, because once they did they would no longer be their trusting selves.

The bed dipped a little and Billy looked over Dominic now lying beside him. He was on his side, palm of his hand propping up his head so he could look down at him. Billy got the feeling that Dominic was trying to see into him. As if all the times they talked he hadn't really been paying enough attention. Taking Billy for granted. Cause right now the other boy's eyes were searching. Billy couldn't tell what Dominic thought of what he saw though, he was to good at hiding those things away.

"You don't want them to notice if there was someone untoward in their mists?"

Billy toyed with saying what had been plaguing his mind for some days now, but decided against it. So far no harm had come from it, and it did seem more interesting to see how it played itself out. Instead he shrugged.

"Not really, put us out of a job if they suddenly started to notice the world around them, wouldn't it?"

Dominic continued to watch him, but seemed to also decided to let what he was thinking slide. "I suppose so."

"Besides, it's not like they're stupid," Billy looked back to the ceiling. "They're just caught up in what happens directly around the Prince."

"But you knew about Jared?"

Billy nodded. A palace this size had old walls and drafts passages that talked as much as the servants did.

"Elijah too."

"If I'd been able to put together the information on his brother quick enough," Billy sighed. Things had worked out for the best, but attempted rape was only minutes from being rape. Elijah was strong, but still there were some things the body didn't forget. Elijah would have started to notice Dom's habit of moving his things, failings in open trust would follow soon after. "Eric's been a mixed blessing."

"He has, hasn't he?" Billy could hear the smile in Dom's voice. "Now Elijah wants to get stronger, which means Orlando'll want to too. Then we'll be dealing with two extras with protection issues. Sometimes I think Jared's the only one with any sense."

"You only say that because he keeps out of your way," Billy said absently, scratching the itch on his nose. "He knows you're making friends with the servants and a few of the street whores that work the palace. He just thinks it's for entirely innocent reasons."

"You don't?" Dom sounded amused, fingers slowly threading in and out of Billy's hair.

"You forget I noticed you keeping a wide birth from some of Viggo's guests."

"Have I told you yet that you worry too much?" Dom's fingers were decidedly magic, rubbing against Billy's scalp, making his eyes drift shut in delight. Almost enticing him to give up on his current conversation. Billy was inclined to indulge his friend, but not without a passing comment.

"You have, but you'll have to forgive me for being fond of the Prince. I'd hate for anyone from your past to put him or our friends in any danger."

Dominic laughed a little, Billy doubted it was something he'd entirely understand. "Don't worry, I doubt there's anyone I know who could upset the balance of this household too much. I'm more interested in what's on your mind at the moment."

Billy hummed a little, refusing to be baited by the abrupt change of subject. Or what Dom was doing to his head. "Nothing other then the general obliviousness of our friends."

"It's more then that," Dominic prodded in his softest voice. "There's something else going on in that pretty head of yours."

Billy would have been lying if the touch of soft lips against his wasn't a surprise. He threaded his fingers in Dom's hair, tugging him up, staring at him. For a moment Dom looked decidedly confused, it made his grey eyes fog a little. They came into focus again pretty quickly, Billy was still dealing with his own surprise as Dom regarded him with a tilt of his head.

He swooped down again, the press a little more insistent as Billy changed his grip, forcing the head back up again. Dom licked his lips thoughtfully before grinning, a look of delighted amusement crossing his eyes.

"Billy, I do believe you're a virgin."

Billy felt himself flush, his own reaction irritating himself. It irked him more when he went to shove him, Dom didn't budge, still leaning over him with that infuriating grin.

"It never occurred to me before," Dom went on, "you're just affectionate enough with the others that it didn't register. And with more then enough bedfellows to share around you don't have to sleep in a bed with anyone else. I don't think I've seen you hug anyone either. But how is that possible?" he looked a little confused, "you were a slave before you got here, and it sounded an awful long way from your home."

"Why would anyone touch me?" Billy couldn't quiet keep the note of bitterness from his voice. "I was scary wizard right?"

"You're better for it, your first time shouldn't be with some horny sailor if it can be helped. But what about before that?"

"There wasn't anytime," Billy sighed, still blushing, averting his eyes a little, "we all had to learn to hone our skills, we needed to get them to the point where we wouldn't accidentally kill the person we were with. Then I was captured, wasn't I?"

"So no one's ever even kissed you?" Dom was remarkably good at putting the pieces together and it was something that suddenly annoyed Billy.

"Not until right now."

Dom actually laughed, the hand still in his hair patting his head. It made Billy blush and wish for less light in the room. For a moment Dom looked at him and Billy wasn't sure what to do.

"I'm going to kiss you again, Bills."

Billy didn't stop him this time.


	88. Chapter 88

LXXXVIII  
by Beryll

Sean watched with a smile as Billy and Dominic left the yard. They were the last to go, leaving only him and Eric now.

"It seems they all agree the two of us should spend some time alone." he voiced his thoughts, turning to Eric, who was looking back at him a bit unsure.

"And do you agree as well?" Eric asked.

"Indeed I do." Sean replied. 

He delighted in the fact how all insecurity instantly faded from Eric's face, leaving nothing but honest love. No pity or worry like he constantly saw lurking in Karl's and Viggo's eyes. Sean had been so afraid that Eric would look at him differently and all for naught. Even though he knew, nothing had changed between them. In Eric's eyes Sean was just Sean. It was what Sean wanted to be.

He got up and started extinguishing the oil lamps that lit the yard. "What did Lij say to you?" he asked curiously.

Eric grinned. "That I could have you to myself this night but that I should not take this for granted. Your kitten really does grow claws."

Sean nodded. "It's strange. I thought he would grow away from me but the opposite seems to happen. He does not seem to care at all that a pretty boy like him has so many good men to pick from. He just wants the grumpy old warrior."

Eric got to his feet as well and walked over to him. "The grumpy old warrior is in high demand these days it would seem." he said. Then his voice grew much more serious as he continued. "When I went back to Denmark and you were not there at first I refused to believe it. I thought you and Viggo were playing some cruel joke on me."

Denmark. Home. It had been a while since Sean had thought of the north. It was another thing he had considered forever lost and beyond his grasp.

"How were they when you got there?" he asked, not entirely sure if he wanted to hear the answer. "How did they take our disappearance?"

"Yours they took pretty well. They all believed you followed Viggo to bring him back." Eric shook his head. "They really do understand neither of you. And Viggo... his father was - is still I would guess - furious to say the least. He was raging about how his youngest shunned any kind of responsibility. That he was a brat who needed a good beating to put some sense into him." Eric sighed softly. "He was very upset. He misses Viggo terribly and blames himself. Of course he'll never show it. The two of them are just so alike."

Sean nodded silently. He had expected as much.

"Did Viggo real run away because he was supposed to get married?" Eric asked, somewhat incredulously.

"Yeah." Sean thought back to that evening in the king's hall and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Things went as wrong as they possibly could there. As far as I understand it was just an idea of Viggo's father really. But he told Viggo in his typical autocratic way. Viggo said no way. His father decided to use the matter to put his foot down and show Viggo who was in command. They argued, they shouted, weapons were half-drawn, Viggo was dragged out of the hall screaming bloody murder and locked in his room. When I went to see him the next morning he was gone."

Eric's comforting hand on his shoulder felt impossibly good. 

"What was I to do but follow him? I thought he would come to his senses but his pride could lift a mountain. He was halfway across Europe before I realized that he wouldn't go back unless his father apologized. Which is as likely as hell freezing over. So I kept following him, trying to catch up to him but he managed to always stay a step ahead. Fate did not favour us."

"It did in the end. You found him and I found both of you."

It did sound so simple when Eric said it. "Yes, you did. I thank the gods for it. Now..." He looked at Eric and chose his words quite deliberately, "shall we retire as well, lover?"

The last word ignited in Eric's dark eyes. His answer was as simple as the love they shared. "Yes."

They made their way to Sean's room. Sean took his time, lighting the oil lamp next to his bed, giving Eric ample time to take in his lover's new home. Then he sat on the bed and took off his boots.

"Doesn't very much look like you." Eric commented, turning to him. "It's so... empty."

Sean laughed softly. "Considering I have only lived here for about a month I think I have already acquired quite a bit of clutter. Though I must admit half of it belongs to Lij." he added with a look at a small heap of colourful ribbons on his desk. "He seems to move in here more and more."

"Good. Being alone does not suit you." Eric came over to the bed, stopping right in front of Sean, smiling down at him. "I must make sure I tell him he should take good care of you while I'm gone."

How was it that Eric did not make him flinch at all, even though he was much too close for Sean to feel comfortable normally? Instead Sean's hands found their way to Eric's hips, resting there easily. "I have missed you, lover." he said.

"And I have missed you." Eric ran his fingers through Sean's hair gently, his voice thick with emotion. "Gods, Sean, how could you do that to me, disappearing without a trace. You promised to never do that again."

"I did?"

"Yes." Eric scowled down at him. "Don't tell me you forgot! After the siege at Jormurng castle."

"Oh." Indeed he had. Now that Eric mentioned it, Sean remembered clearly how desperate his lover had been when he had found nothing but Sean's split shield on that battlefield. And how outraged he had been when Sean had showed up two days later with a few other warriors after they had chased some escaped enemies through the frozen forests halfway to the next castle. He had promised never to do that to Eric again.

"I'm sorry." he said softly, laying his brow against Eric's thigh. "I would promise to never do it again but if Viggo runs off I will always follow him I'm afraid."

"Then I will always have to forgive you." Eric sank to his knees so they were eye to eye now. "Let's not dwell on the past." he said. "Let's make some pleasant memories for both of us to treasure while I'm gone."

Pleasant memories, Sean thought with a rueful smile, yes he definitely was in dire need of those. Still - even with it being Eric who knelt before him - Sean felt cold fear stir in his heart. With silent determination he shoved the dark memories away. They had no place, here, between Eric and him.

Refusing to be controlled by them he leaned forward and kissed Eric. The urge to keep the touch soft was there but Sean didn't give in to it. Instead he leaned into their kiss, deepening it. Eric responded in kind. There was nothing shy or careful in him. His hand came up to rest in Sean's neck, strong and warm.

The trick was not to stop so he didn't have time to think, Sean realized. Quickly his fingers found their way to Eric's belt, unfastening it. Then he grabbed his lover's tunic and pulled it over his head to uncover the broad expanse of Eric's chest. It was a homecoming of sorts. This was familiar territory, every scar known to Sean.

He couldn't help but compare Eric to Elijah who he had spend so many nights with recently. He wondered if Lij's smooth skin would he as riddled with scars one day. And if there too Sean would be able to tell the story of every single one of them.

A shudder ran through Eric, his eyes slipping half shut as Sean ran both hands over his chest, his shoulders. With a small grin Sean noticed the growing bulge in Eric's pants. If he had had any more doubts his lover had missed him they were laid to rest now.

Again he kissed Eric, both hands buried in his wild curls. Then he tugged on this handle insistently, drawing Eric onto the bed with him. It was an easy tumble as Eric did not resist at all as Sean put him down onto his back and straddled him, grinning down at him.

"You are easy prey tonight." Sean remarked casually. He was grateful for the fact. Even though he loved Eric he knew he was not ready yet to submit to another man again.

Eric grinned back. "Call me a lazy prey." he answered, stretching under Sean, showing off all his muscles, making Sean painfully aware how hard he himself had grown. With a soft growl Sean leaned down to bite at the throat Eric offered so invitingly. He was rewarded with a deep groan and fingers twisting in his hair, Eric's hips bucking of the bed, his hard cock rubbing against Sean in desperate need of any kind of friction.

"Gods, Sean, don't tease me, I have missed you too long." Eric growled. "We have all night for tender touches. Now just fuck me. Please."

How was a man to refuse such an honest plea?

Quickly Sean rid himself of his clothes while Eric struggled out of his own pants. Then they were in each others arms again, kissing, hands remapping naked skin. Mindful of Eric's demand Sean only took the absolutely necessary time to prepare his lover and even that seemed too much as Eric growled impatiently.

Entering Eric slowly, savouring the tightness of the other man proved impossible as Eric again bucked off the bed, impaling himself, groaning in mixed pain and pleasure. There could be no doubt what he wanted and Sean didn't mind obliging. He didn't give Eric time to adjust, withdrew almost completely, then plunged back into the welcoming heat. Hard thrusts, no quarter given. Eric grunted his approval and met every single thrust, his eyes half closed but always staying focused on Sean as if he was trying to edge every second of his lover's face into his memory to take away with him.

It couldn't last long, too intense, too fast was their love making.

Sean came first, burying himself to the hilt and spending his seed deep inside Eric. He wasn't given time to enjoy the pleasant buzz of orgasm as Eric snarled at him. Grinning at the other man's open need Sean grabbed his weeping cock and stroked him to completion as well. With a low moan Eric came as well and then collapsed bonelessly, at last pacified. At least for the moment.

He looked good enough to eat, Sean thought, all flushed, shining with a thin sheen of sweat. Even if he hadn't loved Eric for the fact that they were brothers in arms and in soul he would always have wanted this man just for his gorgeous body.

New excitement ran through him, his cock twitching in the tight sheath of Eric's body, reminding Sean that fucking Eric was right now an extremely easy feat. With an almost malicious smile Sean slowly withdrew, making Eric shudder and groan at the new friction against his sensitive flesh. And then he pushed back in just as slowly, delighting at the sight of Eric's eyes flying open as he realized Sean was anything but done with him.

All night, Eric had said. Sean had every intention of using it.

\---

Morning came much too soon. The first light of the rising sun found Sean sitting on the edge of his bed, watching Eric sleep. He would have preferred to sleep as well - considering how long the night had turned out to be - but two facts had prevented that. One was that he had gotten used to rising with the sun. The early hours of the morning were pleasantly cool still and Sean had learned that he got some things done much quicker when he took care of them before breakfast. The other fact that Eric was snoring like a bear. Like he always did when he had downed a few mugs of med to many, Sean thought with a fond smile. It was reassuring that some things about his friend would probably never change.

As stealthily as possible he collected his clothes from the floor where they had been discarded the previous evening and put them back on. Then he picked up his boots and sword belt and slipped out of his room. With a bit of luck he would be back by the time Eric woke up.

The yard was still dark as the sun did not reach here yet. Only the two oil lamps that Sean had left burning the night before shed some light. On top of the pile of pillows were they had had dinner the lion cub had curled up, one paw resting possessively on a leftover bone it had snatched. The Prince's quarters were silent and peaceful in this hour. Sometimes Jared would be up as early as Sean but not today. Sean guessed that the mouse would sleep in after spending his night of 'punishment' with Karl. Whatever he had chosen to do to the Captain, he would be tired.

As if on cue a small sound drew Sean's attention from Viggo's office. He smiled as he noticed Karl slipping through the beaded curtain, looking much like he did himself, carrying his boots and weapons in one hand, his braids coming loose at the ends where Sean's hair was still tousled. He looked dishevelled and confused but definitely not hurt.

"Good morning." Sean said, quietly not to wake the many other sleepers in Viggo's quarters.

Karl flinched at the sudden sound, his eyes scanning the dark yard for the speaker. When he noticed Sean he relaxed slightly but still looked ready to bolt. Sean couldn't help but feel sorry for this nervous young man he had met as such a self-confident warrior. There were many things he would have liked to say in reassurance and he was about to open his mouth when he remembered what he had realized just the night before: that he hated the pity and worry in Viggo's and Karl's eyes, that he hated being treated like a weak child when all he wanted was to relearn how to be strong.

What would you like to hear in Karl's place, he asked himself.

"I was hoping to see you before you left." he ventured carefully. "I have missed our training sessions. I was hoping we might take them up again?"

Karl blinked at him in consternation but then the tension slowly flowed from his posture.

"I have missed your company too." he answered just as quietly as Sean. There was a great amount of emotion behind his words, so many more meanings then he had spoken aloud. But there was no need to, Sean understood well enough.

Sean rolled his shoulders. "A little match before breakfast then?" he asked, a smirk on his lips, "I'm sure I will have you pinned before Eric wakes up."

And there was that glint in Karl's eye he had missed so much. "Have you tired him out so much?" Karl asked back, mirth creeping into his voice. "I bet you Jared will sleep longer."

Sean laughed quietly. "Let's go then, my friend, or our jabbering will bring both their wrath on our heads."

Together they left the Prince's quarters to face another day.


	89. Chapter 89

LXXXIX  
By Mel

Eric still managed to put off leaving for another three days. He spent most of his time with Elijah, going through basic exercises with him. He was older then most boys who started out as warriors, his body hadn't had any strenuous work inflicted on it. It wasn't unheard of, but Elijah was going to be catching up in the worst way as Eric had to force his body to do what it was told. 

Elijah, for his part, didn't complain. The determination in his eyes was refreshing and Eric had set him with the basics. He expected to see him much improved by the time he returned. He had even seen Karl correcting the boy's footing occasionally. 

The rest of his time was spent in Viggo and Sean's company.

On the third day, when he realised it was getting difficult to leave, Eric packed his room up and was on a camel before the sun had risen. Most of the Kitten's seemed hardly awake, even Viggo was blinking a little stupidly as Eric hugged him. Only Jared, Sean and Elijah seemed properly coherent, and Elijah only because Eric had had him awake at this time for the last few days. 

They managed a rather quiet goodbye, Eric shooed them back into the palace before he left. Long goodbyes made it even harder to go. The sooner he got on the road the better.

Eric left his cape in his luggage with great reluctance, donning plain merchant's clothing. At his guide's displeasure he had buckled his sword to his belt. Such an item would draw much unwanted attention but Eric refused to be caught without it. It was the reason why he was travelling through the desert instead of a ship, less questions. His father's interest in Aqaba was not supposed to be common knowledge and everything about Eric was reasonably well known by the right people. 

The sun was on them early, but it was to be expected. Eric was careful enough to keep hydrated and listened to his guides. He would be out of the desert in a short time, Odin willing, and back into places he knew without guides. 

It was just after midday, they were sheltering in a small brick structure that his guides said had once been part of a town, when things changed. At first it was the shift in the wind that sent a small murmur through the other men. Still, a sandstorm was not unheard of and they were in the best place possible to wait it out. 

When the group of riders in black crested the hill Eric got the distinct feeling Odin wasn't looking out for him in this instance.

With nowhere to run, the sand storm behind them and the men ahead his merchant guides began to panic a little. Some drew their sabres, some tried to scramble on already spooked camels. Eric tied a piece of cloth over his mouth so he wouldn't breathe in too much of the sand and withdrew his sword. 

It was almost like it was the signal the men on the crest were waiting for. Their yells and shouts could be heard over the rising wind as they came charging down the hill. 

The men around him were starting to break, Eric hollowed at them to stand their ground. But he wasn't dealing with solders, these were guides and merchants. He counted three that didn't run further into the storm. With the riders bearing down on them Eric barely had time to shout a few orders before his sword clashed with the first. 

The storm that rage around them seemed to come alive. Whatever Gods seemed to control it were certainly not on Eric's side. Invisible hands grabbed at him constantly, tearing apart his attacks, throwing him and the other fighting merchants too the ground. The riders almost looked they were experiencing a pleasant breeze. 

Eric only managed to unhorse one of the fighters when the merchant protecting his back fell, blood pooling beneath him. It made Eric's steps unsure, his already shaky balance from the storm now upset with the slippery mess beneath his feet. The guide who had wanted him to stow his sword was flung into the air by the wind, smacking into the bricks. 

Eric gave a silent prayer of thanks. He'd been able to see Sean and Viggo once more before Odin took his departed soul. With a roar he charged the unhorsed man, he would take a few with him before he was done with. 

He was surprised when his sword met thin air. Eric was certain the man had been real, his sword certainly had been. The eyes that looked at him through the small slit in the mask were also not nearly as cold as Eric would have expected them to be. 

"What sorcery is this?"

Eric didn't get an answer as the sword hilt met his temple and the world went dark.

~~~

"So you do wake at some point."

Eric struggled to wake properly, in itself an odd occurrence. He was usually the first to wake, a much debated point of Sean's, and was always a light sleeper. A stranger with such a cold voice should not have been able to be standing before him. It took a few foggy moments to remember the situation he had found himself in. He remembered it all as he realised his arms were raised high above his head with heavy shackles around his wrists. His feet only just brushed the floor, all his weight relying on his fragile wrists. This explained a lot. 

He figured he was in some sort of dungeons, as these things often took place in, and it took his eyes a little time to struggle with the lack of light. The room even smelt of old blood, it was all rather charming of them. 

As Eric lifted his head to take a look at his tormentor the back of a gloved hand struck the side of his face. This hadn't stopped Eric from getting a glance at the man before him. His face was surprisingly strong, though lined with age. Dark short hair crowned his head and ice blue eyes had looked at Eric with cold indifference. He carried himself boldly, his head lifted high so he could look down at his captive even as Eric had the height on him. Even the way he had hit Eric did not bode well, as Eric was sure it was far from the worst he could do. 

Eric spat the blood from his mouth and there was a ruffle of cloth.

"Make sure you don't rough him up too badly, Voosloo, I want to leave the best for the Prince. Come Craig."

Eric caught the sight of the warm eyes before a tall, heavyset and bald man stepped in front of him. Tattoos covered most of his exposed skin, even his head. Eric didn't like the wolf's grin that stretched across the man's face. 

"Of course not, M'Lord."

The heavy door slammed shut behind him.

~~~

Eric could deal with pain. He'd had stab wounds, broken bones. A bandit had embedded an axe in his back when he'd been a child. Pain was delightfully easy too withstand, when the body couldn't withstand it any more you simply passed out till it passed. 

This Voosloo had ways of keeping you awake when your body couldn't stand it anymore.

It had been hard, he'd tried not to scream, but Voosloo only seemed to get off more the quieter he was. He worked twice as hard to make Eric cry out. He almost seemed disappointed when Eric had to give in to his bodies reactions. 

And the things he said. Eric had met some crazy people in his years but Voosloo took the cake. He talked of Viggo like he was coming here for a vacation. He almost reminisced over the things he would do when he had the two of them in the same area together. He only laughed when Eric threatened him. 

It was some time before the door opened again and Eric couldn't stop the cringe. How had Sean dealt with this for weeks? It was only a few hours and apparently he'd had it easy. His pride in Sean deepened.

"I've been told to clean your wounds," the soft eyes looked up at him, a gentle hand rested against his brow. Eric wanted to ask who he was, this servant to Voosloo's master, but the palm radiated warmth and Eric felt his body relax instantly. "You will sleep through the worst of the healing, I can not do anything else for you." 

"Thank you," was all Eric could managed before he succumb to the sudden need for sleep.


	90. Chapter 90

XC  
by Beryll

\-- To Viggo, so called Prince of Aqaba  
Your bid for the throne has not gone unnoticed by local people of note who worry about the well-being of our great nation under the rule of a foreign dog like yourself. Your impression that you would just have to sway the Caliph is sadly mistaken.  
It is with utmost pleasure I may inform you that your dear friend from the north who I believe is called Eric has been captured by my men and has been delivered into my hands just a few hours ago. Be assured that he will suffer greatly.  
It is in your power to save him of course.  
You are expected to come alone to the Shal'Asim oasis two hours north of Aqaba and surrender your person to my men at dusk. If you fail to appear - be it carelessness or your proverbial inaptitude at travelling our lands - your friend's life is forfeit. --

With a soundless sigh Viggo closed his eyes and rubbed his brow. Somehow he had stupidly hoped that the content of the letter would change if he read it often enough but that obviously wouldn't happen. It was still the same dreadful message he had found only half an hour ago on his desk, accompanied by a ring he had immediately recognized - the seal of Eric's father. Prove of the claim in the letter - Eric would never have parted with it willingly.

How the letter had come to his desk he had not been able to find out. His guards had told him no messenger had passed the doors to his quarters.

Viggo was willing to believe them. It could have been someone pretending to be a household slave of course but Viggo doubted that. The guards by his door were handpicked by Sean. They were highly trained to notice anything and everything that was even remotely out of the ordinary, they knew every servant assigned to his quarters by name. It was Sean's way of making sure that no assassin would slip in.

That left only two ways that letter could have come to his desk: someone had bribed or forced one of the regular servants to put it there or it had appeared by magic. It made a cold shiver run down Viggo's spine that he considered the second option more likely but after nearly dying of a curse such things became frighteningly real.

Gut instinct told Viggo this unknown person who had captured Eric was the same one who had tried to kill him twice already and who had made countless attempts on Hugo's younger children's lives. Why he did not say so outright and chose to veil his true agenda in talk about the well-being of Aqaba was beyond Viggo. But so was the fact that someone would stoop as low as murdering innocent children to achieve a goal. What this someone was capable of doing to Eric Viggo didn't want to imagine but his mind supplied a whole collection of horrible scenes.

It was up to Viggo to prevent them from becoming reality. The only question was how to achieve that.

His first reaction had been to call Sean and Karl and even the Caliph, to make a council of war, so to speak. With their minds put together they would surely come up with a way to save Eric. But then he had reconsidered. One thing was for sure, none of them would agree to Viggo surrendering - even if it would have been just for show. They would lock him up somewhere "safe". His safety was their top priority, even if it got Eric killed. Viggo was not willing to let that happen.

There was no way he would be able to defeat whoever had captured Eric on his own and there wasn't enough time to gather any reliable information on who might be their enemy now. That only left the option of doing just what the letter asked - to surrender himself - hoping against hope that his foe would honor his deal and let Eric go. And that his friends would be able to find and rescue him before he was dead.

Maybe he would be killed right on the spot. But if his enemy was as cruel as his letter hinted he would more likely be taken prisoner and brought somewhere else.

That would buy Sean and Karl time.

It was a desperate gamble but the only way Viggo could see to protect Eric's life.

Drawing his dagger from his boot he rammed it through the letter into his desk. It was the only hint he could leave for Sean and Karl. The only hint he had. One of the kittens would notice it sooner or later. Then he left in a hurry.

-

The setting sun was painting the sky an angry shade of crimson when Viggo arrived at the oasis. Despite the insulting comment in the letter Viggo had found his way here without trouble. He had managed to slip from the palace without Karl or Sean noticing. He had taken care to be seen by guards though so they would be able say he had left, wearing clothing for a trip to the desert and a grim expression.

Outside the oasis he reigned in his horse and looked at the patch of palm trees in silence. He knew he was walking into a trap - a deadly trap - and he felt cold fear stir in his heart. There was a good chance he would not survive but that didn't shake his resolve

The first evening breeze carried the soft neighing of a horse up from the oasis. So he was expected. Maybe now he would at last learn who his so far unseen enemy was. Softly he nudged his horse forward.

In the fading light he could now make out a group of riders among the trees. All of them were wrapped in the dark robes, head cloth and veils of the desert people. All but one. Viggo heart made a painful leap as he recognized Eric's tall form, is foreign clothes, his shock of dark curls. He was swaying in the saddle of his horse precariously, his hands tied behind his back. But at least he was there. Maybe there truly was a chance that the promise to let him go would be kept.

The group of riders watched him approach in silence.

"Prince Viggo." a voice from the group spoke when he was close enough to notice the blood caked wound on Eric's head. "I see you have come alone."

Viggo wasn't sure which of the riders had spoken but it didn't matter.

"Yes, I have." he answered.

"Drop your weapons." the same voice ordered and this time Viggo was rather sure it was the tallest of the veiled riders who had spoken.

"Let Eric go first." Viggo demanded but was answered with a short cruel laugh.

"You are not giving the orders here." The tall rider growled. "Now drop your weapons."

Viggo hadn't brought many to begin with. He certainly didn't want to lose the sword he had carried since his teenage years to his enemies. So he pulled the simple training sword he had picked instead and dropped it next to the horse, followed by the dagger from his belt.

"Good." the tall rider said, slowly urging his horse forward. "And now..."

The pain was no more than the bite of an insect but when Viggo's hand flew to his neck it encountered a tiny arrow. Suddenly his horse seemed to dance madly and Viggo lost his grip on the reigns, tumbling to the ground.

"You are ours." the tall riders voice concluded.

Bright splotches of light were dancing in Viggo's rapidly darkening vision. He was not really surprised, really had expected as much.

What did surprise him was the last thing he saw and heard before unconsciousness claimed him:

Eric's face gazing down at him with deep pity and then melting away to form a completely different face unknown to him.

And the softly whispered words: "Poor princeling, now you will join your friend in suffering."

-

Waking up was not the slow emergence from darkness one would wish for but sharp pain and sudden awareness as Viggo was slapped hard, his head reeling back from the force of the blow.

"Wake up, princeling!" a cruel, sneering voice commanded. "I want to look into the eyes of the man who has caused me so much trouble!"

At first Viggo thought the flickering reddish light was due to the fact that the drug that had be used to keep him oblivious had not completely lost it's grip on him. But as his eyes adjusted he realized the light was coming from torches along the wall of the dank dungeon cell he found himself in. 

He had been stripped of all clothes but his pants. His whole weight was suspended by his wrists which were shackled to a chain coming down from the ceiling in the middle of the cell. Trying to find a footing he noticed that he was just able to stand on tiptoe.

"Ah, awake at last," that voice sneered, "and here I was starting to fear your first beating would go unnoticed by you."

The man in front of him was tall, broad of shoulder but kind of gaunt under his precious robes. His face was a map of angry frowns etched deep, his dark eyes sunken, giving him a demonic seeming in the shadows cast by the torches. His cruel smile only added to the picture.

"I would have thought you'd be more... special. Turns out you are just a man who has been lucky. But your lucky days are over, my stupidly honourable friend. Did you really think I would let your friend go? Such a tasty morsel. It will be a pleasure to break him."

Viggo's gaze followed the man's gesture to the cell opposite the one he was imprisoned in. He drew in a breath in an angry hiss as he recognized Eric there, chained just like he was himself, hanging limp and obviously unconscious from his shackles. 

"And you will have a first row seat to watch the spectacle." the man in front of him drew back his attention. "I must admit it is quite beyond me why the suffering of another should pain a man but lengthy testing has proven to me it works." The man chuckled evilly. "So silent? There must be quite a few questions you want to ask me. Like who I am and why I am so entirely un-amused by the fact that you have so stubbornly refused t be murdered by my agents."

Of course it was true. Viggo did want to know. But he would certainly not give the man the satisfaction of asking. Instead he gritted his teeth in a silent snarl.

His captor snapped his fingers and from the shadows another man stepped, whom Viggo noticed only now. He immediately recognized the face and warm eyes he had last seen before he had lost consciousness. Now this man was bearing a small tray with a jewel-encrusted goblet. The man in front of Viggo picked it up and took a sip, his mood obviously improving from moment to moment.

"Well as you refuse to ask I will tell you anyway. Now is not the time to discuss the much needed adjustment in your behaviour. Your first whipping will help tremendously in that regard I'm sure."

Obviously this man quite enjoyed to hear himself talk. The prospect of a whipping was not exactly pleasant but it meant he would not be killed right away, Viggo thought. The more time he could buy for Sean and Karl to find him the better. How they would manage that and the impossible feat of saving him and Eric he had no idea but in his situation hope was all a man could cling to.

"Why don't we start like the civilized men I am and you pretend to be," his 'host' continued with a mocking bow, "I am Lord Christopher, second son to Caliph Hugo's sister. A distant cousin, so to speak. You will of course not have heard my name at court and much less seen me. I have been banned - no that is not right - send on a permanent mission out of the way, guarding trading routes in the desert. Or so Hugo phrased it when he kicked me out after everything I had done for the ungrateful bastard!"

The man drew a hissing breath and then took another long drag from his goblet. His fury made him even uglier.

"You see, I led his armies for a while, securing him the rule of several of the pretty cities he now calls his own. I really never asked much for my service, after all I was quite sure he would be intelligent enough to realize what a gem he had by his side in me. But that fool had the guts to ignore my advise. He called me 'too cruel'! Can you imagine that?! Too cruel!! A man of his standing should know that his realm needs a firm hand. If a subject does not fear his ruler, how can it be expected to obey? He even had the gall to criticize the way I ran my very own household! How dare he?!"

The goblet was flung against the wall in a burst of rage, wine splattering everywhere. Viggo remained silent. He could very well imagine why Hugo would have removed this man from his presence but right now was certainly not the time to speak his mind.

The Lord folded his hands behind his back staring at Viggo angrily.

"Hugo is not fit to rule anything. If there was any more prove needed he gave it when he made YOU his heir. A foreign bastard, a man who runs away from responsibility, a brainless dog who gives up his own freedom for another worthless dog. Now that you are out of the picture at last I will remove Hugo's brood from existence at last. I am done waiting out here, I am done plotting and waiting."

He sighed softly, his smile suddenly returning in a most unpleasant way.

"You know, you and those cursed brats are the only thing still in my way to the throne of Aqaba. If you had all been paying a little more attention you would have noticed how I removed everyone else who had a claim one by one. But Hugo's spies have always been sorely lacking in expertise. Might be because I took the good ones with me when I left. Hugo will be so devastated, losing all his beloved children. He will need a strong shoulder to lean on. Especially as his sorrow will make him quite ill. I'm sure you remember your own terrible illness."

The malicious glee in the man's voice made bile rise in Viggo's throat. Don't aggravate him, don't react to his taunting, he told himself but it got increasingly hard. Hot rage was boiling in his blood at the careless cruelty so openly displayed in front of him. The Lord cocked his head slightly, regarding him with almost clinical interest.

"You are amazingly calm, princeling. Maybe you are more of a man than I thought." 

He licked his lips managing to make a disgustingly wet sound in the process.

"I think I will enjoy breaking you too. Maybe I will even leave you alive once you and your friend their have been tamed. It will be fun to watch you fuck each other raw for my amusement."

That did it. With an angry roar Viggo kicked at the man, missing him by only an inch as he danced back, laughing.


	91. Chapter 91

XCI  
by Mel

When Viggo didn't show for his first appointment Jared frowned. With the Caliph's birthday celebrations over with Viggo wasn't nearly as busy as what he had been, but he still had the general running of the kingdom to worry about. With the strengthened bonds between some of the cities and surrounding kingdoms Jared had noticed a distinct rise in the workload. 

The appointment with the finance minister was rather important, it involved the use of funds for some of Viggo's projects, like the school for the street children. These things were important to the Prince, Jared knew he'd been looking forward to this meeting as it was time to start the proper planning phases for his radical ideas. 

"Orlando, have you seen the Prince?"

He was sitting beneath the tree with Elijah's head rested on a pillow in his lap. There was a collection of children's books around them. Elijah had been trying to teach Orlando how to read and it seemed they had progressed to the use of actual books now. 

"He had a meeting this morning, didn't he?"

"Which he is late for." Jared scowled, the Prince wasn't often tardy at all.

"I haven't seen him all day," Elijah sat up.

"He didn't come to bed last night, but I thought he must have been with Sean." 

"Sean was with me all night, he even said he'd let the Prince sleep in this morning."

Jared took a deep breath. It wouldn't do to panic anyone. "When was the last time someone saw the Prince?"

"Yesterday at Lunch," Orlando said promptly. "He said he had a lot to prepare for todays meeting and asked if I'd be able to look after myself." 

"He left soon after lunch yesterday," Billy said as he and Dom came into the garden, carrying a tray of food and drink each.

All five Kittens looked at each other.

"He couldn't have just disappeared," Elijah said logically. "Someone must know where he went." 

"Is Viggo here?" Sean called from just outside the doorway, "Liv needs him to sign off on a few things- What's happened?"

"No one's seen the Prince since yesterday," Orlando stood, the words wavering a little towards the end. 

Jared rubbed his hands against his vest, they were sweating a little. He walked aimlessly as Sean began to quiz the other boys. He walked through the bedroom, nothing was missing from it, if Viggo had disappeared he'd taken only the clothes on his back. 

On the desk in his office was a dagger sitting upright in the wood. It drew Jared's attention up front, Viggo wasn't neat with his things, but he wouldn't purposely destroy the desk. Plucking the letter from beneath the blade made Jared's eyes widen. For a moment he couldn't believe what he was reading then before he could think he was crying out in alarm. 

"Sean!"

\---

It was just like Viggo to do this to him. Dom scowled to himself. The whole group was in an uproar and seemed incapable of conscious thought in this state. It was ridiculous. They were all grown men faced with a minor disaster and they acted like a bunch of children. 

Dom knew he probably wasn't being fair, but they were all being quite useless. Elijah and Jared were at a loss, doing the only thing they could, supporting Sean and Karl. However, Karl had started shouting at his guards, quite predictably, and leaving Sean trying to get useful information out of them. Neither had any form of information gathering skills to speak of. 

Billy had wandered off, he said there was something he wanted to double check. Dom hadn't asked, he knew it would give Billy cause to question him on what he was about to do.

Orlando, well, hadn't quiet reacted how Dom expected him to. He had expected tears and shouts and frustration. Instead Orlando sat with his back pressed against the tree. 

"I'm waiting for him to come home."

So Dom was going to bring him home.

Sitting in the chair Dom looked over the letter. It had to be personally written. Letters of treasoness matters couldn't be left to underlings, they were too much of a hindrance. They could spook too quick and a trail of dead bodies were no good when trying to kill royalty. Dom would bet his head that this was the same group that sent him to kill Viggo and had a mage strong enough to make him sick from afar. 

Though it certainly didn't bode well in Viggo's favour, it meant that they were getting desperate and sloppy. Dom pulled a fresh sheet of paper from beneath the piles on Viggo's desk, he really needed a maid in here, and an ink well before he began copying the letter. 

\---

"Ishtar, my sweet!"

The slightly balding and completely overweight old man lifted his head from his pages. Dom plastered his sweetest smile on his face. Ishtar was completely disgusting. He wasn't diseased and he kept clean and smelt quiet nice. He just liked his food a little much Dom's taste. But as royal scribe and bookkeeper for the Caliph he was a good friend to keep. 

"Dominic my boy." The man smiled, his desert accent thick. He'd told Dom boastful stories of his youth with the bandits, some of which had turned out to be surprisingly true. He still retrained the accent from his youth though Dom got the impression most of it was put on. "What brings you down to my lair?" 

"I'm such a klutz," He held up a letter practically dripping with ink. "You know the hand writing of every nobleman everywhere, I was hoping you could help me out?"

Ishtar couldn't quiet hide the greedy look in his eyes as he took the letter from Dom's hands. Ishtar loved a juicy bit of gossip and he didn't get to read the Prince's mail very often. The second letter, forged by Dom, had taken him time. Ishtar's eyes were too good and if Dom had done a bad job he'd pick up the forgery up front. Everything seemed in order though as Ishtar scanned the page. 

"So rude, questioning the use of the Prince's own funds for the school. He's giving those poor children a better chance at life then we had, isn't he Dominic?"

Dom was glad for Ishtar's liking of the Prince and being able play on his sympathetic side. He was a good man and this Lord would have more to worry about if someone didn't see fit to kill him. Ishtar would sow discontent amongst the staff and servants that would quickly spread to the rest of Aqaba. Making use of such an effective rumour mill had its uses. 

"It certainly is," Dom preened the man's feathers for him. "I just need a name, so the Prince can send an adequate response when he returns."

"It's Lord Walken, the Caliph's cousin," Ishtar handed the letter back. "I would know that writing and flowering speech anywhere. He's a nasty piece of work, your Lord should get that young Jared to send the reply, he has a nice way of writing." 

"A nasty piece of work?" Dom pulled up a chair. He'd hoped Ishtar had some stories for him. "How? He must have done some dastardly things to upset your gentle soul."

The flattery and chance to gossip did it's job and Ishtar lent forward, speaking in hushed tones, told Dom everything he knew of Lord Christopher Walken.


	92. Chapter 92

XCII  
by Beryll

More torches had been lid in the two cells holding Viggo and Eric, shedding their light on details Viggo would have preferred to stay oblivious of, casting too many constantly moving shadows. They were also adding to the heat of too many bodies in such an enclosed space, making everyone sweaty and aggressive. 

Not that anything would have been needed to make the men in Eric's cell any more aggressive or cruel. They were not only paid to inflict pain, they enjoyed it - Viggo was sure of that after watching them for countless hours. He was trying to remember their faces, trying to keep a mental list on who needed to die the most painful way for everything he had done, but it was all starting to blend into each other. An endless parade of filthy, ugly, brutal men torturing and raping Eric.

The only one who truly stood out among them was the tall broad man with the many tattoos creeping over his bald head. He was presiding over the whole show, ordering the guards here and there, correcting them when he thought they were not working Eric hard enough. His gleeful smile mixed with his cold professionalism was the creepiest and most disgusting thing Viggo had ever seen. Viggo had quickly reserved a special place for him in his heart.

They had changed the way Eric was bound. His hands shackled on his back and reattached to the chain going up to the ceiling, the chain pulled tight so Eric was forced to bend forward or twist his own arms out. It put him in a perfect position for them. His last clothes had been cut off him, leaving some angry red marks that had much too fast disappeared under fresher wounds.

First they had whipped him. Not too much. Just enough to open a few just closing cuts from his last beating. Just enough to make him groan in pain through gritted teeth.

Then the bald one had taken over, switching to heated irons. At first he had only singed the hair on his arms and legs, giving Eric just a little taste of the pain. Then he had picked out a spot on Eric's hip and started really burning him, creating an intricate pattern of tightly packed small burn marks. That was when Eric had first screamed.

Viggo could not see much of Eric's face with the other man's hair hanging into his face but he was sure he had never seen him in such pain.

After that they had gone back to whipping him. Not just his back but his legs as well, covering him in welts and bruises and open cuts. By the time they seemed to be done Eric had hung limply.

He had been giving just enough time to recover his senses when they had thrown a bucket of dirty water at him to wake him fully.

Viggo had known it was going to happen but Eric obviously hadn't as his eyes had flown wide and he had screamed in pain and rage as the first of them grabbed his hips - right where those burn marks were - and shoved into him without warning or preparation. He had fucked Eric hard and fast, grunting like a pig. Viggo had watched as his friend struggled helplessly and in the end had no chance but to submit. There had been blood on the man's cock when he pulled out. The one taking his place hadn't minded one bit.

There seemed to be an endless supply of guards who wanted a turn. Viggo had lost count of them. The mixed cum and blood running down Eric's thighs was testament of how many had raped him.

The first few who had tried to fuck his mouth as well had been bitten but by now he was barely conscious, spitted on cock in both ends, they were pushing him back and forth like a rag doll.

It was pure horror. A sight Viggo was sure would be with him in his nightmare for many, many years should he survive this. Still Viggo would gladly have traded places with him. At first because he had wanted to take his friend's pain on his own shoulders. By now because he could no longer bear what was being done to him, because Eric's fate seemed preferable.

Viggo's only pain was the fact that his arms were still bound high above his head, muscles aching from the strain of carrying most of his weight. But apart from that the most intense pleasure he had ever felt in his life was coursing through every nerve. The hard cock deep inside him rubbed all the right places, caressing him inside, moving slowly, steadily in and out. The arms wrapped around him tight, the hands caressing his skin, leaving burning trail of pure bliss. Kisses and gently bites covered his shoulders and neck. It would have been the perfect fuck - actually even the perfect love-making - if it hadn't been going on for hours, if he hadn't been forced to watch what they were doing to Eric at the same time.

It was the man with the gentle eyes who had stepped behind Viggo when they had started whipping Eric. Viggo had expected the same treatment as Eric was receiving but instead he had been carefully stripped. And then those elegant fingers had first touched his skin and it had send sparks flying in his blood. Viggo was sure the man was using some kind of magic, nothing natural could feel this good. He had been prepared with the utmost care while Eric suffered right before his eyes.

When Eric had screamed Viggo had moaned in helpless pleasure as that cock had first entered him. 

Now his whole body was on fire but there seemed no end to it. He needed to come, he craved it more than he had ever wanted anything in his life but he couldn't. Even with those skilful fingers wrapped around his cock, constantly coaxing him to new heights there was no release. The same magic that provided this impossible pleasure denied him completion.

Still he refused to beg.

Eric had screamed with pain but not once had he begged for them to stop.

"End it, princeling," that sweet, sad voice whispered in his ear again like it had so many times in the last hours, "end his pain. I know you want to. Let me stop this. Allah knows I can't bear to see you two like this anymore. I beg you princeling, say the words."

With an incoherent groan of pleasure Viggo jerkily shook his head. He would not give in.

-

"He is ready for you now, my lord." 

It was hard to keep his voice down to the meek obedience his master expected but somehow Craig managed. Like he always did. It wasn't harder than all the other things his master demanded. In fact it was one of the easiest chores.

"About bloody time!" Lord Christopher looked up from the papers he had been studying, regarding Craig with contempt. "What is it, are you and Vosloo losing your edge?"

Craig knew his master didn't expect an answer so he kept his icy reply to himself. Not that he would have voiced it anyway. 

"Well then, get me there!" Lord Christopher demanded impatiently, "You don't expect me to walk, do you?"

Of course not. Why would anyone expect a man who didn't even do his own torturing to walk to his dungeons? 

In silent obedience Craig whisked them both to the cell he had spend almost the whole day in. An imperceptible shudder ran through him as he again faced what he had been forced to do. Prince Viggo was covered in sweat, his eyes glazed with the intense pleasure still wracking his body, his erection was straining against his stomach, his body was twisting helplessly, seeking any kind of contact, silently begging for release.

Craig hated himself like he had so often done in the years since he had first been forced to serve Lord Christopher. 

You are doing this for a reason, he told himself silently. You are doing this for your love. It did not help as much as it used to but it still was something to cling to.

Lord Christopher stepped up to the prince, let his greedy fingers run over hot skin, delight in his eyes as Viggo unconsciously leaned into the touch. Then his eyes cleared enough to recognize who was touching him and he recoiled.

"Well?" Lord Christopher demanded.

For a moment Craig thought - hoped - the prince would have changed his mind, would have found some more strength to resist.

"Please..." Viggo whispered, shattering that hope.

"Please what, my sweet pet?" Lord Christopher asked with malicious glee now tinting his voice. Again he caressed the prince's body and this time he suffered the touch.

"Please..." Viggo seemed to choke on the words but he forced them out anyway, "fuck me."

Craig almost expected his master to draw it out longer, to try to force more submission from the prince but Lord Christopher had broken many slaves. He knew when to push and when not to. He stepped behind Viggo, loosening his robes and then quickly shoved his already hard cock into the well fucked hole.

Viggo cried out in pleasure, his head falling back against his hated captor, every muscle in his body tense as he strained to gain release at last.

Craig held his spell. If he allowed the prince to come before his master did there would be hell to pay.

Lord Christopher was taking his time, fucking the prince in long, slow strokes. His intention to make Viggo suffer as long as possible was clear to Craig and it made bile rise in his throat. There was not much he could do to defy his master but Craig decided this was a moment where it would go unnoticed. Gently he extended his spell to his master's body, making his excitement rise. He smiled as Lord Christopher rammed into Viggo harder, both of them moaning in pleasure. It took only a few more deep strokes and then Craig released both of them, making them come together.

The prince hung in his shackles limply, occasional shudders wracking his body.

Lord Christopher wrapped his arms around the prince's body, cradling him almost lovingly.

"There now, that wasn't so hard, was it pet?" he crooned softly, "That went well for your first lesson. I'm sure we will make a good fuck of you yet."

Craig turned away. He knew his master's words were true. It made him want to scream. But he wasn't allowed to.


	93. Chapter 93

XCIII  
By Mel

When the first reports of the Prince missing buzzed past Karl's ears he admonished the servant for spreading vicious rumours. It wasn't long before the whispers grew loud enough to take Karl from the new men and towards the Prince's quarters. He was sure it was some sort of crazy misunderstanding, but it was one that Sean could clear up quickly.

The Prince's rooms were empty, surprisingly, for lunchtime. No kittens lounging around in the garden or in the courtyard. About to leave and continue his search elsewhere Karl paused at the archway when a raised voice sounded from the weapon's room.

Karl was a little shocked to see Sean right up in the face of one of the guards. The only thing that was stopping him from getting violent appeared to be Elijah and Jared having both grabbed at him.

"You must remember something else," Sean was shaking in an effort to control his temper. "How does a favoured Prince of the realm simply walk out of the city?"

"There was nothing wrong, sir," though the guard was a little rattled, he was holding up well against Sean's anger. "He took one of his own horses and left the city via the North road. Nothing was amiss in anyway."

"Thank you, you can return to your post," Karl stepped forward, the guard's gaze was thankful. He nodded quickly, a 'thank you Captain' on his lips as he made his way passed. "Will you two leave us alone for the moment?"

While Elijah looked a little unsure, Jared quickly ushered him on his way. With only a backward glance Karl and Sean were left alone.

"So it is true then." Sean looked ready to kill, the normally controlled warrior taunt and furious. Karl understood, even with the calming words to the guards and Kittens. Viggo missing was something that could rock the shaky internal political balance, everything Hugo had crafted over the course of his birthday could be lost. And what was worse news like this spread like wild fire. Within a couple of days the whole empire would know.

There was also Karl's own tormented feelings to take into account. The kidnapped Prince was not only his charge, but the man he hoped to mend a friendship with. To loose Viggo now, with so many things left unsaid, it was something Karl wasn't ready to accept. Not too mention how the kittens were dealing with it.

Sean didn't seem to be dealing with it much at all.

With a howl like some wounded animal Sean slammed his fist into the wall, rattling the weapon stand near by.

"You need to calm down and tell me what's happened." Karl took a step forward only to have Sean snarl at him.

"They've stolen them away. Eric and Viggo." He began running his shaky hands over his body. For a moment Karl wasn't sure what was going on, if Sean was having some sort fit, till he pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket, tossing it in Karl's direction. "My two best friend's, Captain," he used the title with as much contempt as he could muster, "and some madman has them."

Karl read the note with a terrible feeling sinking into his tummy. It was just the sort of action Viggo would have taken if it had been any of the people around him were taken. It was Sean it would affect the most, to loose both men in one instant. At the moment he was unreasonable, Karl could see it, he was close to breaking point. He'd had to get the Kitten's out but now that he had Karl was unsure what to do with this mess of a man.

"I've looked after him his whole life," Sean seemed to be talking to the wall more then Karl. "They called him my little Duckling. I watched him grow as a charge, then a friend and confidant. And Eric-" a pained expression passed across his face. "And now he has walked out on me AGAIN! Damn Viggo, how can you do this to me??"

Karl took a deep breath. He knew he should be off organising a search party, or finding where the Prince was, but right now Sean was a danger to himself. Right now he was about ready to run back into the desert with no plan, no help, to save the men he loved. And then Karl would loose him too.

"Sean, I know this is hard, but you have to calm down. You're no help to Viggo and Eric like this. You'll get yourself killed."

"You think I care?" Sean looked over from his wall, furious eyes taking in the Captain before him. "Anything could be happening to them now. They could be tortured, raped."

There were shadows in Sean's eyes, shadows he'd thought the Kittens and the Prince had chased away. Demons he'd seen before in a frighted moment, when Sean had woken from a nightmare, seen when Sean had come so close to breaking apart. But these demons were furious. They were ready to kill, or be killed. Sean obviously didn't care very much about what could happen to him in the process.

Karl would not let him go out now, not with this look in his eyes. Not when he was reckless enough to die.

"I'm leaving," Sean blindly grad a spear from the rack. "I have to get to them."

"You're not going anywhere," Karl stepped in his way, blocking the exit. If he raised a weapon against the other man now anything could happen. He had to hope that his empty hands would calm Sean more than any threat might. He had to keep his head or he would be one of the people Sean killed today. "You will wait till we can organise a search party. You don't even know where they are, Sean."

"Out of my way," Sean didn't bother with any sort of comradely. Karl suspected at the moment he was beyond all that. That even Elijah could have been standing before him right now and he wouldn't care. "I don't want to test this on you."

"And I am not moving, Sean," Karl took a step forward. It was reckless, but he needed to get through to Sean, needed him to calm down, then they could get to saving the Prince. "I'm not getting out of your way. I'm standing right here till you come to your senses."

Sean let loose a hollow laugh. "My senses have never left, Captain. They know exactly what needs to be done. Now you'd best move, this sharpened blade is meant for others."

It rested against his collarbone, the tip of the spear pressing just enough for Karl to feel the pinch. He didn't move though, and he held Sean's stare. He could see the demon's faltering as it clicked that Karl wasn't going to move. He growled but Karl refused to move an inch.

"Damn it Karl, move."

"I won't," another step forward. "We will save them Sean, I swear it, but we have to find where they are first. We have to plan this. You will have to wait just a little longer."

The demon's faltered further before the spear pressed harder against his neck. "They're hurting, they could be-"

"Dead." Sean flinched and Karl hated that he had to be harsh about this. "They could be, but you will be if you run off like this. And then who will be able to save them if you cant. Please just wait a little with me."

"I cant," Sean was breathing heavy, like he was fighting. Karl could see the fear and confusion warring in his face and he dearly wanted to curse Viggo for leaving Sean like this. He held his tongue, in case Allah was listening and decided to punish the Prince.

"You can," another step forward and the blade dropped away a little. "It's easy enough. We can find who sent the letter, the Caliph has many men who work with him who could find the information out. We can go save them together, and no on has to die."

"Someone will pay for this," Sean all but whispered. "Someone will pay for hurting them."

Karl reached out, silent agreement coursing through him. Sean stiffened when his gentle hands touched his arms before relaxing, resting his head against Karl's forehead. Karl ran his hands up his arms, feeling the tension still beneath the skin. He had to calm Sean down, he was still ready to fight, to kill anyone in his way.

Taking a chance he leant forward, brushing his lips against Sean's. He drew back slightly, before leaning back in. The touch was searching, in stark contrast to the last time Karl had kissed him. Karl wondered what he was looking for when a inquisitive hand brushed against the middle of his back. They mapped him through the cloth, Karl's traitorous body reacting, arching into the touch.

It wasn't like Karl had ever imagined his first time with Sean.

"Your back's sensitive," Sean murmured against his lips, Karl could only nod. Too many beatings had left their mark, the scar tissue sensitive against such a gentle touch. "Are you trying to distract me Captain?"

"I was," Karl liked the feel of Sean's lips against his as he spoke, "but I fear it's backfired and I am the one being distracted."

"No," Sean's hands trailed up his spine, flicking at the ends of his braided hair, "no, your methods are working just fine. Did you think much beyond this?"

"I wasn't really thinking at all," Karl licked at the lips, wondering if Sean would taste like this elsewhere.

"Perhaps you should start," Sean wrapped his fingers in Karl's hair, tugging, pulling his head backwards. "Or I could do the thinking for you."

Karl was practically ready to go along with whatever Sean wanted, especially when his lips found the cord of his neck, nipping and sucking at it. He arched against the touch, amazed at the change in Sean. Eric had been good for him, raised his confidence. Karl didn't know the man very well, but sent a prayer in his direction. Anyone who could bring Sean back out of his shell was well worth saving.

With that he heaved Karl off his feet, draping him over his shoulder like some savage. Karl couldn't help the breathless laugh that escaped, Sean's hand coming down on his arse.

"That'll be enough laughter out of you, Captain," Sean remarked, smack turning to a caress, dragging a moan from Karl. "I'm sure there are more interesting things you can be doing with your mouth once I get you in my bed."

Karl shivered, the promise in Sean's voice leaving him giddy. Viggo and Eric were important, and they would find them, they would save them. But first Sean needed this, needed something to wipe the demons from his eyes.


	94. Chapter 94

XCIV  
by Beryll

CRASH!

The beautiful vase meeting an untimely and fatal end as it collided with the wall was not the first and it would not be the last, Billy reckoned.

"I can't believe he just left!" Orlando's voice was dangerously close to hysteria. "How could he do that to me?? Does he ever stop to think about what anybody else is feeling? Does he ever stop to think at all?!"

"He was just trying to protect Eric, Orlando, you know that." Jared's calming voice. 

"Help Eric?? In getting himself killed??!" 

With a soft sigh Billy brushed at the symbol he had been drawing. It was bloody hard to concentrate with the shouting and the thick emotions rolling off Orlando, Lij and Jared.

"It's always Viggo, Viggo, Viggo! He thinks he knows best and just walks into his death. Can't he just once - JUST ONCE - ask advice?? Allah..." 

Now Orlando's voice was breaking and Billy knew what would be next. This had been repeating since the Prince had been discovered missing in various stages of despair. It tore at his heart to see Orlando reduced to this.

"He will die..." A defeated whisper followed by a quiet sob.

Jared's soothing voice murmuring meaningless consolation. Quiet shuffling as both Jared and Lij moved to comfort Orlando in their warm hugs.

None of them had noticed so far that Dominic was missing from these scenes of despair and sorrow. Neither had Sean or Karl and Billy was glad about it. They might have assumed that Dom had had a hand in the plot to take the Prince, that he had been a spy in Viggo's household all along. But when Dom had slipped away quietly with silent fury in his eyes Billy had known that the young assassin and thief was leaving the palace to investigate. He knew Dom better than any of them and there were two things he was certain of: Orlando's pain was killing Dominic and he would do anything to see his friend smile again. And he had not forgotten that he had been fooled into trying to murder the Prince. His pride demanded revenge and Dominic was a vengeful soul.

Of course Sean and Karl were quite busy with working out their own problems. Which right this moment wasn't the missing Prince but the dark memories that Billy sometimes saw surfacing behind Sean's calm eyes. The warrior had been as close to breaking as Orlando only an hour ago but Karl had put a stop to his madness. Or so Billy hoped. It was something he couldn't take care of right now and anyway wouldn't have known how to accomplish. 

Completing the intricate pattern he had been working on for a good while now Billy surveyed his work. He could not be entirely sure his spell would work. As he was dealing with a mostly unknown foe he had been forced to improvise. He could not even be entirely sure his suspicions were right but he would find out soon enough. It was time for some investigation of his own.

He slipped through the beaded curtain separating the Prince's office from the central yard almost soundlessly. Since the room had been searched for additional clues to the Viggo's whereabouts it had been undisturbed and that was what Billy needed. 

Lij and Jared were below the tree with Orlando, both hugging the crying young man just like Billy had envisioned. None of them noticed him as he passed them by in search of his quarry. They were too caught up in Orlando's sorrow and their own worry.

Billy didn't have to search long. When he glanced inside the kitten's room he found the lion cub on their bed, head resting on his forepaws, eyes closed as if it was asleep but Billy noticed his ears were pricked up and alert, flicking at the small sound the beads of the curtain made when he slipped inside.

"Hello, little one." greeted the small creature with gentle cooing. No need to alarm him just yet.

David yawned cutely and rolled onto his back stretching in perfect cat-grace. Billy sat down on the bed next to him, first scratching his belly, then burying his face in the warm fur in a perfect show of seeking comfort.

"I just wish there was anything we could do." he whispered in quite credible despair. Obviously he had picked up some of Dom's skill in lying without even trying.

The lion cub responded in licking his face where it could reach skin. Billy picked him up, rolling him into the crook of his arm just like David liked. Giving a vigorous scratch to the spot under his chin that never failed to make the cub purr and relax he carried it from the room. He almost felt bad as David trustingly closed his eyes. But if it turned out he was just a lion cub after all no harm would be done to him, Billy reassured himself. 

Silently he again crossed the yard where Jared and Lij were still trying to comfort Orlando. When he crossed the arched doorway to the training room the cub in his arms suddenly twisted as they had also crossed the first magic circle Billy had carefully laid out. That was prove enough to Billy and before David even started to struggle in earnest he dropped the cub into the circle he had prepared in the middle of the room. A quick gesture sealed the room, keeping all sound within and any interference outside.

David sat in the circle, blinking at Billy cutely, suddenly all harmless cub again. Billy watched him silently. Watched how he scratched an itch behind his ear, how he got up and then happily trotted towards Billy like noting was wrong a all - and how he collided with an invisible barrier as he reached the edge of the circle. A barrier that was designed to keep spirits trapped - not lion cubs.

The change was immediate. Where before David eyes had been void of any more thought than where to find the next nap or meal they crew calculating, intelligent and alien. With his senses extended Billy felt the spirit reveal itself involuntarily as it examined the spell that made up his prison. It was a creature like Billy had never seen before. So different from any spirit he had ever encountered in his lessons at home he was not sure if his spell would hold it. It was refined, brilliant but at the same time weaker than the primal energies of his home. As if too much consciousness had robbed it of it's natural powers. With a small smile Billy realized that the magic he had used to bind it was just as alien and incomprehensible to this spirit. It would take it a long time to unravel the spell.

It seemed to come to the same conclusion as it's attention turned back to Billy to look at him. It's eyes were unreadable now, guarded.

"We need to talk," Billy politely told it, "I suggest you take on a form more fitting for the occasion."

For a moment they looked at each other and Billy could almost feel the spirit's thought, considering if it was to it's advantage to give up his disguise.

Then it changed. Not the slow, stretching change Billy had once witnessed with a shape shifter of his homeland, allied to his master, but an instant switch to another form as if the lion cub had been brushed aside. Now a seemingly young man crouched inside the circle, wearing the cream coloured robes of a desert dweller but missing the headcloth, exposing sand coloured hair and a face that would have looked open and friendly if it hadn't been for the eyes. They had not changed at all, they still were much too intelligent and alien.

"Your spell will not hold me long, little shaman." the young man said, his voice pleasant but Billy still recognized the open threat.

He didn't let his nervousness show as he got comfortable opposite the circle, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"It will hold you long enough to listen to my questions and be assured it is not the full extend of my power." he said with a confidence he did not really feel. 

This circle was the most intricate bit of magic he had ever worked and he was quite proud of it. If the spirit broke free there wasn't much more Billy would be able to throw at him. His words seemed to have the desired effect though, as the creature slowly forced himself to relax, taking up a position mirroring Billy's. The young druid could feel it constantly tearing at the web of his spell but so far it was not finding any opening and it was showing an effect, even though his eyes betrayed no emotion he was starting to sense frantic despair in the spirit he had trapped. Interesting.

"I have known for a while what you are," Billy lied smoothly - it had only been a vague suspicion after all, "but I was willing to let you live with us undisturbed. I can however not permit you to harm those under my protection." He waited for a moment to let his words sink in. "Where is Prince Viggo?" he then asked.

He was surprised at the reaction he got.

"I can't tell you." the spirit answered, breaking eye contact and looking at the floor instead. David sounded sincere but of course that could be just a clever deception but Billy was willing to go along with it for now as long as the spirit kept talking.

"And why is that?" he asked.

Amazed he watched as the spirit squirmed uncomfortably.

"I thought you liked Orlando," Billy ventured, trying to coax more of a reaction, "do you enjoy watching him suffer?"

"No!" The pain in the David's eyes was entirely genuine and deep. He was not here of his own free will, Billy realized intrigued. 

"Someone sent you here..." he spoke more to himself than to the spirit, "someone controls you." The thought was frightening. He looked at the spirit with fear in his eyes. "A powerful wizard indeed to control a creature such as you." Someone entirely more powerful than Billy could hope to best. This was dire news indeed.

Again the David surprised him. "No," he hissed, his voice so full of raw hatred Billy recoiled from it, "not powerful at all, just lucky..."

Billy blinked at the spirit slowly. So he hated the master who had bound him somehow and that man held no magic power over him. It was a mystery. But a mystery that might be solved to his advantage and that would mean the prince's advantage. Billy leaned forward again.

"It would seem to me we share an enemy," he said, "maybe we can defeat it together."

The spirit drew breath deeply, calming himself and shaking his head. "No, there is nothing I can do." he said with open regret.

"Let's say there is nothing you can think of you can do," Billy replied with a smile, "we both know my spell will not hold you forever as you have stated already. So what harm is there in telling me how this lucky master of yours is controlling you? Perhaps I can think of something you have overlooked." The doubt in the David's eyes gave Billy hope. "After all I think you did not want to harm any of us. You want to help."

The spirit closed his eyes, obviously struggling to come to a decision. Billy gave him time, noticing that the tearing at his spell had stopped. He had been right it seemed. David wanted to help, he just needed a way how to.

Finally David spoke again, his voice low and filled with pain. "I have been a prisoner for a long time," he said, "I was bound to an object a long time ago like most of my kind. You may have heard of the Djinni? I am one of them. I am forced to grant my powers to the mortal who finds my lamp. Being captured is torture but being separated from my soul-brother, my lover is much worse. The man who has my lamp also owns that of my beloved. He allows us to be together after centuries apart - for our continued service. If we misbehave or disobey we are confined back to our lamps. It is in his power to part us again, maybe forever..."

Billy had listened with growing horror. The thought of binding a spirit permanently was an affront to everything he had ever been taught - it was plain wrong. To use them like a cheap witch's charm - unthinkable.

"What kind of wizard would do such a thing?" he exclaimed, "and has never anyone had the decency to set you free??"

David blinked at him in honest surprise. "No, why should they?"

"Because..." Billy flayed his arms in exasperation, "because it would be the right thing to do! Honourable!"

"I'm afraid your sense of honour is not shared by the magic workers of this land." David answered with a hint of wry amusement.

Billy growled in annoyance. "Can you not break that spell binding you?" he asked.

The spirit shook his head sadly. "It is of simple make but cleverly crafted. I can not touch it."

For a long moment they looked at each other in silence and then the same thought crossed their minds.

"I on the other hand..." Billy said.

"You could." David completed the sentence with a malicious smile growing on his lips.


	95. Chapter 95

XCV  
By Mel

When Sean deposited Karl on his bed, he paused. The captain lay beneath him, for a moment he was unsure what to do. This was the man who had kept him, even to a tiny degree. He was also the man who had helped bring him back from the edge he hadn't even realised he'd come close to. Sean could still remember the feel of the other man's lips on his at the auction block. And the feel of his fine hair running through his fingers as he braided it. Every memory Sean had of Karl filled his mind as the scent of the other man wafted up from beneath him.

"Sean, you need to do something," Karl ground out, his body stretching like some exotic cat. "Or I'll do something."

Sean chuckled, the rumble spreading through the two of them, invoking new memories, new tales to tell. Sean settled, sitting astride Karl, feeling him stir beneath him. His arms nested easily on either side of his head, so that his elbows rested against the divan. This way his hands found their way into Karl's hair, running through the tiny braids, resting against his temples.

"This has been a while coming, hasn't it?"

Karl nodded, the movement tickling Sean's fingertips. Leaning down the rest of the way he kissed him again, softly at first. Karl didn't let that go on for very long. He squirmed, arched against him. Sean could feel him growing restless, and for all his trying to keep it at a leisurely pace, Karl seemed bent on testing his patients. When teeth bit at his bottom lip, Sean growled, giving in.

Grinding down into the Captain's obvious arousal feeling him move against him. Karl's own hands gripped at Sean's arms, anchoring him, reminding him who he was holding onto.

"Come on," Karl pressed up against him, "please Sean, I've waited too long for this."

"I think I like you begging," Sean purred, his lips pressed against the hollow of Karl's neck. He tasted like the spice of the desert, it was a heady thing, something that Sean had wondered on when the lights had been lonely. Of when he had wondered if he should ask Karl to come back to his own bed where he slept. Sean guessed the wondering was over, especially with the way he arched against him.

"Don't worry, I won't leave you wanting."

"Just as long as you don't stop doing that," Karl hissed as his fingers dug deeper into Sean's muscles.

It didn't take long to undress Karl. Far too soon, too quick, the layers of clothing fell away leaving him bare to the gaze. Honeyed skin , dark hair and eyes, for a second Sean's hands couldn't stop roaming that skin. Everywhere he touched was warm, Karl was heating up. Sean was sure he was heating up too, it was hard not to, Karl had reached beneath his breeches. He growled, pressing against the touch Karl chuckling.

"Good?"

"A bit too good, you may want to stop that, else it'll end before it starts."

"We can't have that," Karl laughed against Sean's skin, the warmth of his breath heating his skin. "Can we now?" His hand squeezed once more, making Sean bite at his shoulder, before he slipped out. 

The hands fumbled at his breeches and Sean lifted enough off of Karl to help him wiggled them off. Soon they lay together, Sean found his hand stroking over Karl's skin, his other reaching to the table, to the oil he kept there. They kissed, Karl let his tongue trail through his mouth, tasting him again.

Sean's oiled fingers paused against the top of Karl's cleft and for a second they looked at each other. For a long moment Sean was sure it would forever etched in his mind, months of sparring around each other had led to this. Then Karl rolled, crawling to his knees. Sean could see the surge of lust in Karl's eyes and Sean knew he would be hard pressed to deny him. Should he want to.

With one last, hard kiss, Sean slipped in behind him, lips searing against the back of his neck.

Karl didn't make it easy for Sean to keep from hurting him. His hand held tightly to the other man's hip, holding him still as possible. The way Karl gripped at his finger, and then at his second, showed he hadn't done this recently, but also that he was no stranger to it. Sean could be careful but not too careful. And with the way Karl moaned, he was sure the last thing he wanted was careful.

"Sean!"

"Soon," he cooed, "you're almost ready for me."

"Now Sean," Karl practically snarled, "now or I'll do it myself."

Sean slapped lightly at his rump, delighted in the soft moan that left Karl's lips. Maybe something to remember later on, when there was more time, when he wasn't in such a hurry to be buried deep inside. Three fingers scissored deep, making Karl dip toward the bed, his spine curving.

Karl was panting when Sean finally slipped his fingers from his body. Sean had to take a deep breath himself, his hand wrapping around his cock, lest he cum before it even started. He rested against Karl for just a moment.

"Ready for me?"

"Sean, now, please."

Pressing in steadily Sean bit a little at Karl's should. It was sure to leave a mark but it was all he could do to stop the groan that wanted to be free. Karl gripped him tightly, holding him in place while he caught his breath. 

They moved together, Karl pushing into Sean's strokes, making noises that Sean was sure were designed to drive him wild. Sean held tight to what little control he had, trying his hardest not to bruise Karl, gripping him as hard as he was. Eric had felt lie home, Karl felt wild and exotic. Something Sean had always known he'd craved. Something that he had never been able to take for himself.

And now Karl offered it up freely, willingly. Sean couldn't stop from groaning at the thought of how Karl had begged for this. For them. He gave it all to Karl, all he'd asked and more.

"Sean, I'm-"

"Let go, there's time for slow later."

It took a few moments for Sean to come back to his senses, the gentle grumbling from Karl coaxing him to move. Well, except Karl's hair smelt fantastic even though it certainly needed his touch.

Sean enjoyed the quiet moments lying beside Karl, letting his breathing slow. They would need a bath soon, and the bed would need tending to. Viggo to would need finding of course, but for now the quiet room was a nice change from the Kitten's gentle chatter.

"We're in to save Eric and Viggo together, aren't we?"

Sean looked over at the Captain, his tawny eyes serious. He nodded, holding out his hand and pulling the two of them to their feet. There was much to do.

***

Dominic returned from the barracks with a whistle. All in all it had been a profitable excursion, one that had turned up even more then he had hoped. Thankfully the Caliph employed many people, from scholars to soldiers, who came from different areas of the kingdom. Ishtar, whilst a fountain of knowledge, could often exaggerate terribly. The rest of the castle itself could confirm or dismiss his claims and Dominic was spending his walk back to the room deciphering what was true.

Nana, who was one of Liv's girls, had lived along the desert caravan routes and she talked of a keep in the middle of nowhere that they always went passed. A disgruntled lord was rumoured to live there and it was never worth the trouble to stop in when there were other friendlier stops near by.

A stable boy spoke of Walken's keep in hushed tones. He and his father had been stranded there through a sand storm. The sounds that had come from beneath the floor of the stables still kept the boy up at night.

And one of the soldiers, brought with a coy smile and some sweet wine, had served in the keep till he'd been transferred elsewhere. He'd come into Hugo's service only by chance, when the Captain had seen him fight at a tournament. The things that went on in Walken's keep, whilst harsh, were no different from most places along the dessert. Dominic knew that it was probably something that the Prince would hate, but slavery was common everywhere in the dessert. And slave trainers were well sort after, Dominic wondered where he'd heard the name Voosloo before.

The Soldier had kept an interesting souvenir from his time in the keep. A map of a very intriguing dungeon. It had taken more then a smile to get them, but Dominic liked the man well enough and it was almost the least he could do considering the piece of gold he now had in his hands.

Once he got back to the rooms it would be a simple matter of seeing how far along in the preparations for a rescue, someone would have had to have started something. Hopefully that harsh Captain had managed to think of a way to get them out of Aqaba unnoticed. It was a hassle if they had to bring the whole of the guard, and he was sure that the Caliph wouldn't want to have to explain a war with his nephew to the Emperor.

He stopped whistling long before he entered the rooms, sure that the sound would be as unwelcome as a scorpion. He found the remaining kittens in the garden, coiled and asleep, likely worn out, beneath the tree. All except Billy, which perked Dominic's interest. The other young man was too shrewd for his own good and Dominic had an inkling that he was up to something. At least it would mean that someone was taking this seriously, judging by the moans he could hear from beyond the garden.

Not that he could blame Sean really, if Orlando had been taken away he'd need something to relax him before he went tearing off. Like the last time, he mused ruefully.

He wandered silently through the rooms, in search of his friend. Dominic was surprised when he came to the doorway for the training room and found he could not pass through the archway. What was even more shocking was that Billy was seated on the floor with a stranger dressed in dessert garb.

"Billy?" He pressed his palm against the force that stopped him from entering.

The stranger looked up, gesturing to the door, causing Billy to turn. Dominic wondered on the grin as he flicked his wrist, the pattern of his fingers taking the pressure away from beneath Dominic's palm. As he came to sit next to his friend he couldn't help but notice the grin on Billy's face possibly mirrored his own.

"I didn't think that now was a good time for entertaining guests," he crossed his legs beneath him.

Billy wrinkled his nose. "I would have thought the same would go for you. You reek of sex, what have you been doing?"

Dominic's grin grew. "If you thought I was above giving my body for what we needed then you don't know me very well at all, my dear."

"Just so you know, it doesn't surprise me at all. Besides, this isn't a guest, you have met him before."

Dominic took a proper look at the man, but his appearance did not ring any bells and Dominic prided himself in his memory of faces. There was something quiet off with the eyes though, like they were to big, too bright, to be here.

"This is David," Billy prompted, still grinning.

Unable to stop the start Dominic eyes flew to Billy. "This is what you were keeping from me? You could have told me, I could have helped!"

"That was not the reaction I was expecting," David offered, his voice mild but slightly amused.

"That is because you weren't watching us Kittens as closely as you should, you were too focused on the hopeless adults around here," Dominic grinned at the lion cub he could now see. "The Captain and Sean seem to be busy relieving some of that tension they always seem to be suffering from."

"Why am I even slightly surprised?" Billy shook his head. "And I couldn't tell you, I wasn't completely sure myself. Until today there wasn't a reason to act on it."

Dominic stood, stretching, he felt like he'd pulled something due to the morning's activities. "Wait here a moment, I'll go get our fearless leaders, it sounds to me that you two have quite the story to tell, and I have a few things to show off myself."


	96. Chapter 96

XCVI  
By Beryll

The desert was still as baking hot as it had been all day. Even though the sun had set almost an hour ago the heat lingered like a lazy cat, rising up from the scorched earth.

Still it seemed welcoming - safe - as Sean cast one last look outside. He was the last to slip through the narrow secret passageway that would take them into Lord Walken's fortress.

When Dominic and Billy had told them about his discoveries Karl suggested gathering the Caliph's guard and head out here in full force.

He had been silenced by all three of them, Sean, Dominic and Billy speaking up almost simultaneously.

Stealth and small numbers were their friends, if they wanted to get Viggo and Eric back alive, Dominic had explained and Billy had added that they would only stand a chance anyway if they managed to relieve Walken of his magical aid first, which meant freeing the spirits he held captive.

Sean had quietly nodded and Karl had seen the reason behind their arguments and agreed.

Slowly Sean pulled the door that from the outside looked like just another piece of solid wall shut behind them.

He could hardly believe the others could not hear his heart beating in his throat. He knew exactly where he was. Had known when Dominic had dropped the name. Walken. Thankfully the others had been too distracted to notice. To remember that Sean must have been here before.

Icy cold ran down Sean's spine. His hand grasped the hilt of his sword in an iron grip as fear threatened to strangle him.

In front of him the other three carefully moved forward, Dominic in front, shading a sole oil lamp with his hand not to draw unwanted attention should they come across any guards, Karl following close behind, sword drawn, Billy after them, clutching the lion cub that was no lion cub at all to his chest.

What an odd company of rescuers they made. Two warriors and three kittens - Sean though with bitter humour.

He followed them, scanning the murky dark with his eyes. It was all so familiar, the smell of cold, damp stone, the sound of moisture dripping down. It crept into him, making his limbs heavy. He grabbed the sword hilt harder to keep it from shaking.

Then Dominic stopped.

"Careful," he whispered, "this door leads into the fortress corridors. We best head straight down to the dungeons."

Karl nodded but Billy spoke up.

"Me and Dave will go look for the lamps."

"No," Karl hissed, "too dangerous."

"We've been over this," Billy replied just as quietly, "I can hide us. We'll be safer then the lot of you."

Dominic looked deeply troubled, biting his lower lip but he nodded. "Billy is right, Captain."

Sean could sense Karl tense up and then let out a sigh. "Be careful, kitten." he told Billy who just smirked.

Then Dominic opened the door in front of them and slipped through. 

"It's clear, come on." He whispered back.

Karl followed, then Billy and Dave and finally Sean himself.

The corridor here was rough walls, cut from huge stone slabs. It was mutely lit by torches in cones along the wall. The shifting shadows made Sean flinch but none of the others noticed.

Billy set the lion cub down and it quickly trotted off down the corridor, followed by Billy, both going more and more translucent as they went.

Dominic headed off in the opposite direction, Karl right with him and Sean bringing up the rear. They knew where they were going, thanks to the map Dominic had acquired but Sean would have known anyway. He knew exactly.

When they reached an intersection he lingered behind, staring at the corridor that Dominic and Karl had passed. They did not notice he wasn't immediately following them.

A silent shudder passed through Sean. Then he quickly turned into the intersecting corridor, abandoning Dominic and Karl.

-

Billy stood with his back pressed tightly against the cool stone wall, holding his breath. Only to steps away two burly guards stood, arguing loudly.

They had opened a door right in Billy's path and he had just been able to hug the wall to prevent them from running right into him.

They had not noticed him due to the poor light of the torches illuminating the corridor and due to his camouflage spell. But if they heard him they were sure to notice him.

"I tell you, it's fucking unfair!" the shorter, fat one of the two exclaimed probably for the third time. "Duty up here when down there they are having a ball!"

"Fucking unfair!" the exceptionally ugly one confirmed.

Billy could guess what "they were having a ball down there" referred to but he refused to think about it. He had told the others that he and the spirit would find the lamps and thus eliminate Walken's magic advantage. He had almost been surprised how easily they had believe the brave facade he put on when really he was scared to death.

Come on, he silently begged the guards, move on, dear horned father, make them move on before I have to breath.

His lungs were burning already, bright sparks beginning to dance in his vision.

Then a sudden sound drew the two guards attention, a strange crackling further down the corridor and they broke off their arguing and moved away, hands on swords hilts.

Billy sagged against the wall, drawing in a ragged, quiet breath. Paying attention to other things then the guards he noticed the small shadow creeping along the wall towards him near the floor.

The guards disappeared around a corner.

"Thank you." Billy whispered to the barely visible lion cub, rubbing against his leg.

The spirit gave no answer but swiftly headed down the corridor away from the guards.

Only a few minutes later they reached a staircase, leading up. Like the rest of the fortress it was old, the steps well used, worn down in the middle by almost an inch. Stealthily the young druid and the spirit climbed the stairs.

"Are the lamps guarded?" Billy whispered to the lion cub, this unpleasant idea only now popping into his head.

The cub shook his head no in a very human gesture that looked entirely odd on him.

Then they had reached the end of the stairs and Billy saw why there was no need to guard the room at the top. The door leading inside was secured with a heavy lock.

"Shit!" he cursed. "Where is Dom when you really need him!" He eyed the lock angrily. "I don't supposed you can just whisk us in there or something?" 

Dave looked up at him apologetically and again shook his head.

Cursing under his breath Billy knelt in front of the door, digging through the small pouch with magical herbs he carried everywhere with him.

There was a spell to open a lock one of his friends had mastered, back at home. He remembered the general lay of it but not the details. He'd have to learn quickly it seemed.

"Guard the stairs and warn me if someone comes this way." He told Dave and then put his palm over the lock's opening, concentrating.


	97. Chapter 97

XCVII  
By Mel

Dom could only blame his concentration on the fact that they had lost Sean. This little excursion had too many people and it made Dom increasingly nervous the deeper into the catacombs they got. He made sure they stuck to the darkest hallways, and he was able to tell quiet quickly how far away the guards were. it was a mixed blessing really, guards who were paid to keep folk in rather then out. A refreshing change from the palace where the good Captain insisted on both. But it meant that Dom was so in tuned to listening for strangers foot falls that he missed when one of their own disappeared.

What then followed was a very terse discussion with one irate captain. He, of course, wanted to back track and find Sean. Dom told him in no uncertain terms that that was foolish and would likely get every single one of them killed. For the most part it was a lot of hissing noises that didn’t involve actual words but Dom could tell his point got across. Sean could fend for himself and they would come back for him.

And it might work out to their advantage, Dom thought grimly. Both men were quiet, but they weren’t quiet enough in a place that carried every sound they made as if it was a gong sounding. He couldn’t hold it against them, both men were notoriously honest, so much so it got on Dom’s nerves, but he couldn’t fault them for it. They just didn’t have his... special skills. Every light step they had made was making him cringe and listen out for shouts and weapons being drawn.

Dom knew he was making concessions, there was no time. He had to trust Billy and Dave would do their job. And he had to trust that Sean would not get himself killed and that they would find each other again. It was too many variables and it ate at his insides. People were going to die here and he hoped by all the Gods out there that it didn’t involve his friends.

Of course that didn’t stop the inevitable from happening.

“What’s this then?”

Dom’s breath caught and he pushed himself even closer into the wall. It took him a few precious seconds to realise the gravely voice wasn’t directed at him.

The Captain stood stiff in the middle of hallway, the man behind him had his hand on his shoulder. There was a look on Karl’s face that Dom didn’t quite understand, a look of terror mingled with acceptance. Almost like he knew this was going to happen.

‘Go,’ he mouthed. Dom blinked. It was true this large man didn’t seem to have noticed him. He stood still, torn, deeper in Viggo and Eric waited, but here was the Captain in hot water. 

Then Karl took the decision out of his hands, turning slowly too look at the man, who’s own face took on a bewildered quantity.

“Hello father.”

Dom slipped away with a silent prayer on his lips.

***

Eric shivered away from the hands that touched his bound wrists. Did no one in this place actually do any work? His body felt like it’d been ripped apart only to be roughly sewn back together with only two usable holes. It hadn’t been long since their last session, not that Eric could time it very well, but he didn’t think he was ready for another go. He had hoped to start thinking of a way out of here before the torture sent his mind blank again.

Hissing furiously in German he tried to twist away from the hands.

“Sweet Allah Eric, if you keep making those chains jangle I swear I’ll knock you out myself.”

Eric went stock still in his bonds. “What new sorcery is this?” The words slurred together, he had bitten his tongue at some point and it seemed to flop around uselessly in his mouth. Even in his pained state he tried to crane his neck to see what was going on.

He was shocked to see his and Viggo’s four guards on the ground, at least two of them bleeding out onto the stone floor. His own cell door was open with a pair of keys sitting in the lock. And to think the first he’d known of it was when the gentle hands had touched him. 

Little Dominic looked pale but was concentrating so hard on his bonds that he didn’t seem to notice much else. Except his head was cocked to one side, and it was almost as if he’d stopped breathing in his effort to listen.

When the cuffs gave way the blood rushed back into his fingers, causing them to cramp. Dom caught him with surprising strength, covering his mouth quickly to muffle the cry as much as he could. He spent a few moments trying to rub feeling back into Eric’s fingers.

“I have to get you two out of here,” he breathed, eyes darting to the darkness down the hall. “Do you think you can move?”

“If you wanted, Kitten, I think I could fly.”

There was a small strained smile and a rummaging through pockets. Out came a tightly wound shirt and what seemed to be a dry mess of herbs coated in something sticky. “I’ll settle for you chewing this, Billy says it will temporarily give you your strength back so we can get you home. But do not swallow, when you can’t taste the honey anymore then spit it out.”

Dom wasn’t kidding about the honey, the sticky sweetness assaulted his taste buds but not quite covering the dry woody taste of the herbs. Standing propped against his cell door Eric could feel his aches numb and his energy levels spike. In a small space of time he no longer felt like he’d been raped for days, in fact he was sure he could fight most of the guards without breaking a sweat.

He could see there was a little trouble with Viggo. His dangling figure seemed to be asleep but when Dom tried to reach his hands to undo his shackles, Viggo jerked awake. Eric winced from where he was standing as Dom shoved his hand between Viggo’s teeth to keep him silent. After some whispered words Viggo’s body sagged and Dom went back to freeing them both. Viggo pulled on his borrowed shirt quickly and they both helped themselves to the dead guards' daggers. They could only share a glance, but it was enough. The rest would have to come later, when they were home.

“Be quiet and stay to the dark of the hallways. We have a long way to go before we’re out of here.”

***

All that had mattered was getting Viggo and Eric out to safety. Karl had known there would be risks, but he had thought them in Dominic’s reckless behaviour or Billy’s unknown power. The fact that here, in this darkened corridor that he’d be facing his nightmare was something he’d not contemplated. And yet it felt right. Sean was deeper in the catacombs, far away from the man who had pulled him apart. And he was here to finish what he should have started years ago.

Karl was surprised how old he looked. How his eyes crinkled as he squinted in the darkness. Vosloo had always seemed taller than him but now there was almost no difference in their height.

“Boy?”

He looked like he doubted his own eye sight and unconsciously tightened his grip on Karl’s shoulder. Karl’s sword seemed to hum in his hand.

“What are you doing here?” an appraising gaze, it made Karl feel like cattle, which was probably how his father saw most men. It was arrogance more then anything else, in his mind everyone was beneath him.

“I am here to get my friends, father.”

The confusion only lasted long enough for Karl to take a step back. Then Vosloo’s face hardened and his hands went to the axe strapped to his back. The way it caught the dim light as he took it in both hands caused a shiver to race down Karl’s spine. It was entirely possible he was about to die at the hands of the man who had ruined his life. Lifting his own blade up against his father’s, Karl squared his shoulders. So be it then, at least the nightmare would end.

“You were always such a waste,” his knuckles cracked as he repositioned his hands on the handle, lip curled in a sneer. “You and your sympathies.”

Karl flicked his braids out of his way but said nothing. The younger of his guards wasted their breath on trading insults, but Karl had always trained them out of it quickly. Real fights didn’t need dirty laundry shaken out into them, they were messy enough. Instead he watched this man before him, his blood warming. He wasn’t taking the fight seriously enough with all the flexing and posturing so Karl decided to give him a reason to take it seriously.

Resting lightly on the balls of his feet Karl let his blade snake out, the flat of it rapping hard against his knuckles. He hissed, hands tightening on the hilt. His eyes took on a murderous quantity.

“You arrogant little pup,” growling he swung the axe.

He was too slow, his swing so confident that it would hit that it was swung too hard. When Karl leapt back out of the way the follow up swing was sloppy. Karl was shocked. He had never fought his father, he’d been on the rough end of beatings, but they had never crossed blades.

He was nothing like fighting against Sean and Viggo over the last few months.

He side stepped again, this time Vosloo’s whole weight put behind it sent him stumbling. Again Karl slapped him with the flat of his blade, this time against the right forearm. This man was no fighter, not that it was that strange. His father had always relied on bullying and threats. Till now they had worked. Now, when pitted against him with what Karl had struggled with this last decade, he was found wanting. He made mistakes like a brand new guardsman. Karl was able to dance around every attack even in the small, dimly lit hallway, smacking his opponent each time he left himself open after a wild swing. He counted each time he could have killed his father, marvelling as he reached double digits in the same amount of time that it would have taken him to land just one hit on Sean when they had sparred.

How ever had this weak creature held him paralysed with fear?

With a roar Vosloo sliced his axe upwards. Karl was already finished, using the brunt of his sword to crash into his jaw, sending him tumbling to the ground. He stood over him, barely breaking a sweat while his father tried to take in great heaving breaths through the pain in his jaw.

“If you ever touch one of my friends again, father, our next fight will go a lot different.”

Turning he made to go down the hall, hoping to find Dom quickly enough to give him a hand with the charges, when he heard the dagger slicing through the air. It caught him in the shoulder, if he hadn’t turned it would be lodged in his heart. Turning he shifted his grip on his own sword, hurling it at his father. It flew true, right between his eyes, the sickening sound of crushing bones making Karl’s hair stand on end. But it was done.

Knowing there was little time Karl removed the dagger and retrieving his sword, covering the flow of blood as much as he could and, hopefully, heading towards the people he loved.


	98. Chapter 98

XCVIII  
By Beryll

A gentle breeze blew in through the intricate lattice work of the window, cooling after the long hot day. The desert looked beautiful under the lights of the stars. Its beauty was lost on the man standing at the window, staring outside. 

He hated the desert with a burning passion as hot as the merciless sun. 

He hated the view from this window. His prison. 

He hated the man who had banished him here, into this desolate, insignificant place. This nowhere.

He hated with every breath he took.

Hatred had made him strong.

Hatred had breathed life back into him.

His hatred was ripe and full and foul and soon it would burst. Soon it would give him everything he had been wanting for so long.

Soon he would be rid of this place.

Soon he would become what he had always been destined to be.

Soon all the pieces would fall into place.

Soon...

A knock on the door to his chamber yanked him out of his brooding and he turned with one more frown creasing his brow.

He did not expect anyone.

"Come in."

He relaxed when the door opened to admit a household slave, carrying a tray laden with finger foods and a delicate tea pot with matching cups.

His evening snack was right on time. A bit of food would lighten his mood and prepare him for the evening's entertainment. He was curious how another day at the tender mercies of Vosloo and his tireless guards would have affected the prince in the dungeons. He was far from broken yet.

Lord Walken moved over to the huge desk and settled into the leather chair as the slave slipped inside quietly, the guard outside closing the door behind him. The slave moved over to the desk and started transferring the food from the tray to the table, arranging it for the Lord's convenience, his head meekly bowed.

The thought of having the princeling perform such duties for him one day was pure sweetness. He had originally planned to kill him eventually but maybe he would keep him around after all. As a reminder to anyone thinking they could oppose him.

But this was a well trained slave. And exotic too, Lord Walken noticed approvingly. Blond haired, tall, with a strong, lean body. He vaguely remembered training him quite a while ago. He always inevitably lost interest in them, once they were broken. Maybe he would have the prince killed anyway.

The slave poured tea for him and Lord Walken picked up the cup, leaning back in his chair and inhaling the scent deeply with his eyes closing.

-

Billy couldn't suppress a small sigh of relief when he felt the lock open under his palm with a click.

No matter how hard he had tried, he hadn't been able to recreate the lock picking spell he had seen his friend perform when they were still studying together.

So he had fallen back on another of his master's lessons: If you can't accomplish it one way, try working around it. He had used another spell, one to move small objects. After all it was just a matter of having the tumblers move the right way. It had taken precious time but now the door swung open under gentle pressure.

He silently prayed that he would not be too late but so far no alarm had been raised and as he turned around he saw Dave bounding up the stairs, his eyes huge with anxiety.

Together they peered into the room.

It was plain enough. Basically it was just a round chamber at the top of a tower with one high window that shed a little light on the table in the middle of the room. There sat two ancient looking oil lamps, side by side.

Instinctively Billy stroked the fur of the spirit next to him and felt it shudder. Biting his lower lip he stepped inside the chamber. There were no magical wards he could detect but the lamps themselves were teeming with foul magic that to Billy hung in the room like a brooding cloud.

Dave remained at the door and Billy realized that he could not come closer to the lamps that held the binding spell which trapped him.

Billy stopped in front of the table, carefully studying the lamps. There were no outwards signs that they contained any magic at all. Whoever had woven these spells had been a master of his art. He closed his eyes, shifting his perception to the magical realms to take a closer look.

The pure malevolence of the spells seared him. What kind of magic worker would create such a horrible thing? Binding a spirit was a capital offence among the druids of his homeland. It was considered "evil magic" and punished with death. Spirits were creatures to be cherished, nurtured and in the case of powerful ones, worshipped.

Still there was no looking away from this evil. He had to unravel it. And quickly.

The spell was old but had not lost any of its potency. There was no way the spirits it bound could break it. But it was obviously not build to withstand the attack of another magic worker - almost like it had never even crossed the maker's mind that someone would want to destroy his weave.

There were no hidden traps, no save guards Billy could detect so he decided to take the direct route. There simply was no time for finesse.

With as much brute force as he could muster in his mind, he tore at the spell of the first lamp, ripping ancient weaving open. Behind him he heard Dave cry out in pain and then another voice, shouting, but he didn't cease his attack. It had to happen now or never.

-

It had been ridiculously easy.

Considering he had not even had a real plan on how to reach Walken when he had left Karl and Dominic it was simply laughable how he had been able to just walk in through the door.

Only one thought had been clear in his mind - whatever happened here tonight, no matter if they managed to free Viggo and Eric or if any of them survived - Walken had to die. He must never be allowed to hurt anyone else again.

He had known the way, after all he had been to Walken's study often enough in the later stages of his "training" by the man. His hands had been shaking as he made his way there, cold sweat running down his back. He hadn't even been sure he would have the courage to really go there.

But then he had seen a slave carrying a tray with snacks and tea and had remembered Walken's schedule. Which he apparently hadn't changed at all.

Stopping the slave had been simple. Slaves in this fortress were drilled to obey anyone carrying a sword and armor. Not doing so resulted in immediate pain. He ordered the young man into a close by room. There he had him strip. Binding and gagging him had been just as easy as the slave had not fought back. No slave in this household would ever fight back, if he was allowed to move about unguarded.

Sean had quickly shed his armor, put on the slave's tunic and hidden his dagger inside it. And then he had picked up the tray and gone to Walken's study.

His heart had been beating so hard he had thought the guards must notice.

His hands had still been shaking, the dishes on the tray faintly rattling, giving him away. It had only served to perfect his disguise. The guards at Walken's door had laughed and one had roughly fondled Sean's ass but they had also opened the door for him without so much as a second glance.

Such a thing would have been impossible at the Caliph's palace in Aqaba where slaves knew each other and guards knew exactly who belonged there and who was a stranger. Here - where slaves were mere commodities to be used and discarded no one kept track of who was who.

And Walken himself?

He hadn't looked at Sean twice.

That had been the moment when the last shred of fear in his heart had turned to icy rage, settling in the pit of his stomach.

This man, who had come so close to destroying him didn't even remember him. He was not worthy of Sean's fear. He may have come close to breaking him, but in the end he had not and Sean knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that no one would ever be able to make him afraid of anything again. He had been through hell and come out alive. He had lost everything and still got up.

What Walken must have done by now to Viggo and Eric made his rage burn with a steady flame but it did not let his fingers tremble as he gently wrapped them around the hilt of his dagger.

As he was standing behind Walken's chair, the man leaning back, eyes closed, his throat exposed, a slow smile spread on Sean's face.

This was easy indeed.

His movements were fast and sure as he gripped the man's hair and slashed the dagger across his throat with enough force to make blood spray over the desk.

He felt cartilage part under the sharp blade and then the impact against Walken's spine.

The man was dead in an instant.

-

"Craig? Craig! Can you hear me?"

The real world came crashing back into Billy's senses as the last shreds of the lamps' spell unravelled. He felt slightly dizzy from the force he had used, the power rushing through him intoxicating.

Gripping the edge of the table on which the lamps rested with one hand to steady himself he half turned to look at behind him to where Dave was speaking.

The spirit had shifted back to his human form and was cradling another in his lap. This one was dark haired and fair skinned. Billy immediately recognized another spirit in him.

Just as Billy turned, he was opening his eyes, blinking confused.

Immediately Billy felt energy spark and move between the two spirits, both of them suddenly smiling. He could only guess what kind of communication passed between the two of them in just an instant.

He pretty much expected both of them to disappear. He wouldn't have faulted them with being thoroughly fed up with any mortals. But instead Dave turned to him, now smiling as well.

"Thank you, young wizard. We are deeply in your debt for what you have given us. Be assured that should you ever need our assistance we shall be but a thought away."

The other spirit looked over to Billy as well with the same smile.

"As a small measure of our gratitude, please allow us to bring you and your friends home."

And then the rough fortress walls vanished as if brushed aside and instead Billy found himself in the central courtyard of Prince Viggo's quarters.

Together with Dominic, Karl, bleeding from a shoulder wound, Sean, strangely dressed in a slave's tunic - and Eric and Prince Viggo himself.


	99. Chapter 99

IC  
By Mel

Viggo’s head spun a little as the world faded back into light. Blinking he took in the tapestries the kittens had put up a life time ago, the plush cushions strewn over their floor. For a moment he was sure it was another trick of Walken’s, that this was another of his tricks. That was until Elijah wandered in, knuckles rubbing tired eyes, on his way to the baths.

He stopped dead when he saw them all, gaping in shock. Viggo thought they must look the same way. It was the young Kitten that broke first, making a strangled noise and flinging himself at Sean.

“Orlando!” He cried out his best friend’s name, half sobbing in delight as Sean buried his face in his hair. “Come see!”

Standing in the court yard, they took stock. Eric leaned heavily on Dominic, a tired smile on his lips. Billy caught Karl as he fell to his knees, relief evident on his face even as his hand clung to his shoulder that dripped blood. Sean’s smile shone like the sun as he clung to Elijah as much as the boy clung to him. They were home and they were alive.

When Viggo looked back to the archway Orlando was standing there. Viggo felt his legs go weak. He was home.

For a moment Orlando looked at him and there was an unreadable expression on his face. then he turned on his heel and left Viggo where he was.

***

“Don’t you want to see him, Orlando?” Jared asked quietly. He was standing by the archway, he’d been about to join the rest of the kittens in welcoming back everyone when Orlando had gone passed him. He held a bowl of luke warm water and some clean cloth for cleaning the few wounds he’d seen.

Orlando stopped at his voice and Jared could hear his labored breathing. His whole body shook with suppressed emotion that Jared imagined for a moment the most fragile of their pack was about to break apart.

“No.” And he continued to stalk away.

Jared shook his head, moving into the courtyard. The Prince looked after Orlando, surprise and agony warring in his features. 

“He needs you, my Prince.” Jared kelt in front of Karl, a hand touching his cheek as relief surged through him at the sight of his clear dark eyes. Dipping the cloth in the bowl of water he squeezed it out, touching it gently to the wound. “You left him again.”

Jared smiled to himself as Viggo left the room in a few strides, chasing after his wayward kitten.

***

Orlando was dancing in the garden when Viggo found him. He was surprised, until he noticed the emotion behind the movements. Orlando was furious. His feet pounded into the grass, his body moving with purpose. He had removed his silk shirt, leaving only his billowing harem pants. Beads of sweat dripped down his back over the lean muscles, Viggo stopped short at the pure passion coursing through his boy.

“Orlando?”

Orlando showed no indication of having heard him, finishing the set with the same intensity. With the last slap of his foot he spun to face Viggo, standing tall in the sun that beat down against him, his chin lifted, causing it to look like he was looking down his nose at him.

“Yes, my Prince?”

The title dripped venom and Viggo was taken back by the response. His Orlando was angry... at him. For a moment Viggo floundered with what to do. This wasn’t what he’d expected. His kitten should be in his arms and helping him forget, not this fury directed at him. Unfortunately, Orlando appeared to be a mind reader.

“Surprised, my Prince?” he practically spat, his anger bringing bright spots of colour to his cheeks. “Am I not reacting like you expected? Not meek and simpering? Is that what you want? A little painted toy for just your pleasure?”

“No,” Viggo cried, cutting his hand through the air like he was trying to cut through Orlando’s emotions. “I would never ask that of any of you, you know that.”

“Then why do you keep leaving me?” He practically screamed. Viggo could see tears fill his eyes but he swiped them away. “You always go off, thinking it is the best thing. Did you even think what leaving me here would do?” Orlando didn’t wait for an answer, his hands in the air in pure exasperation. “Of course not. It’s always what you think is good for us, well it’s not good. Do you have any idea what it puts us through? What it puts me through?”

“I am sorry,” Viggo took a step towards Orlando, distressed beyond measure when Orlando took a step back.

“Sorry will not help me when you’re dead,” Orlando said harshly.

“I’m not dead Orlando,” another step forward, he could see the anger begin to fade and the sadness set in. “I’m still right here.”

“Promise me,” Orlando whispered, his eyes trained on the grass, “Promise me you’ll stop going where I can’t follow you.”

“Orlando-”

“Promise or I’ll leave.” His face lifted and Viggo came face to face with pain riddled eyes. Viggo had no doubt that Orlando would hold him to this promise. “I’m not a little boy, my Prince. It destroys me inside when you leave like that, I will not go through it again if you refuse to take me with you.”

Viggo took a deep breath. He knew the promise would tear them apart if it came to it, but he knew he couldn’t deny his request. His boy had grown more then he’d noticed, Viggo thought ruthfully, he’d better pay closer attention to them all or they’d leave him far behind.

“I promise I won’t leave you behind again, Orlando.”

Orlando startled a little, but he didn’t flinch as Viggo’s large hands cupped his face. He ducked his head, bringing their lips finally together, sealing their promise with a kiss.

Suddenly he was pressed against him, he could feel the younger man’s body trembling. Viggo could only imagine what he’d gone through over the last day or so. At the time, bringing his kittens into his problem had not been an option. And yet it was Dominic who had brought both he and Eric out of their cells. Billy was also there and he must have been instrumental to the rescue. If nothing else, his medicine had given Eric enough energy to walk out of his prison, after what those men had done to him.

If he had talked with the kittens before running off, would things have been different?

Orlando kissed him like a drowning man, his body moulding to his own, the energy of his anger transforming into passion as his fingers dug into Viggo’s scalp. He was sure his kitten was trying to burn the touch of hem into Viggo’s skin. Impatient hands tore at the shirt he’d escaped in.

“Slow down, my love,” Viggo smiled against his lips, “I am not going anywhere.”

“Prove it,” Orlando breathed. There was still a touch of fear in his voice, it caught and hung between them. Viggo realised he had caused this fear, that again he’d caused Orlando pain. He would hold his promise no matter what he did.

Orlando yelped as Viggo lifted him up and over his shoulder. Shear delight surged through his body, feeling Viggo’s strong, alive, arms wrap possessively around the back of his thighs. Orlando was aware that they were both wearing too many clothes.

He wasn’t surprised when Viggo took them both into the baths. Setting him on his feet Viggo tugged the shirt over his head. There weren’t many marks on his body, but Orlando could see the shadows beneath his eyes and the skin rubbed raw at his wrists. They didn’t talk about it, there was nothing to say, but Orlando walked into his arms, groaning against his lips as Viggo’s very real desire pressed against him.

“Into the bath, my lovely Kitten,” Viggo murmured, “I would like you to wash my troubles from my body.”

“Saves on dirty sheets, my lord,” Orlando smiled at him, a cheeky spark to his tone. He pulled the ties on his pants, letting them pool at his feet. He wore nothing beneath them and Viggo drank in the sight of his beautiful body. He stepped backwards into the bath, taking his Prince with him. Viggo wondered briefly who’d ordered the almost scolding water, until Orlando turned, bending alluringly at the waist to fetch a cloth. Viggo moaned at the sight before him, unable to help himself he ran his hands over Orlando’s ass.

“You tease,” he purred, feeling Orlando shudder beneath him.

Straightening, Orlando turned and grinned at him, “I’m only a tease if I don’t follow through, my Lord.” Stepping forward a soapy cloth wrapped around his arousal, dragging a hungry gasp from his lips. “And when have I never followed through?”

Viggo’s lips crushed down on top of Orlando’s laughing one’s, tasting him as his body pushed into Orlando’s touch. The younger man kept a steady pace, one that he controlled, and Viggo became a gasping mess under his hands. When his teeth tugged demandingly at his bottom lip Viggo cried out, shocked as his orgasm ripped through him. Gasping at Orlando’s lips his kitten pulled back, smiling cheekily at him.

“Was that what you were after my Lord?” His voice hitched a little, not entirely unaffected by the sight of his Prince undone. Viggo dragged breaths into his lungs, his lips mouthing at Orlando’s neck. Orlando guided them gently to their knees, his touch slowing but not stopping, keeping his Prince hard, just for him.

Letting him go, Orlando turned, falling gracefully onto all fours, arching his back. Presenting his body for his lord. Viggo, shuddering with arousal, touched his hands to his kittens hips. Orlando almost purred, then gasped as he felt Viggo’s lips against his spine. The kisses moved down over the curve of his ass, his hands spreading the cheeks as his tongue flicked over his hole. Orlando groaned, barely holding his weight as Viggo’s tongue pressed into his body.

“Allah, yes,” he hissed, his Lord continuing his ministrations until Orlando was whimpering. Long fingers replaced his tongue, stretching, pleasuring. It wasn’t long before Orlando was shaking with his need. “Viggo please!”

When Viggo pushed into him Orlando cried out, feeling a gentle burn as his length stretched him. He held still, waiting impatiently, till he bottomed out, his hands tightening against his hip.

“Viggo, if you don’t move,” Viggo didn’t let him finish, pulling almost all the way out before shoving back in, hitting the spot that mad sparks dance behind his eyes. They set a brutal pace, Orlando meeting his thrusts with his own. His passion building he spoke incoherently, goading Viggo on. 

Viggo yanked him up, his hands tweaking his nipples, shoving into him, Orlando’s hands digging into his hair. Teeth scrapped against the cord of his neck as he hissed at him to cum. He did, crying out as he came without a single touch to his cock. Viggo growled, slamming into him one last time, cumming hard.

They collapsed into the bath, breathing hard as their bodies came down. Orlando moaned as Viggo pulled out, shifting so he could find his lips, kissing him desperately. 

“No more adventures alone, my lord?” He whispered between gentle kisses.

“No more, Orlando.” Viggo returned the kisses even as Orlando shifted, running a wash cloth over his tired body, washing off his worries, balming his soul as only he could.


	100. Chapter 100

C  
By Beryll

Life certainly was a marvel filled with the strangest occasions, Karl thought, as he allowed Dominic to help him sit down.

Here was a dangerous, even vicious assassin, who he had always considered a danger to the Prince - and now he had proven to be instrumental in saving him. He was still as dangerous and vicious but he had clearly found a home and an allegiance strong enough to win his heart over fully.

It obviously was time to forget about his suspicions.

"Thank you, Dominic." Karl said quietly, while Billy was already opening the fastenings on his armor to check the wound in his shoulder.

Ever observant Dominic caught the deeper meaning in Karl's voice and looked at him quizzically.

"Without your skills we would not have succeeded." Karl continued. "I will not question your honor or dedication again."

The smile on Dominic's face was slow and almost shy. Then he shrugged looking sheepish, obviously not comfortable with this kind of attention.

Then skilled fingers were prying away Karl's hand still staunching the flow of blood and Billy was gently inspecting his wound.

"Dominic, go find Liv, we'll need her skills here." Billy ordered. "Eric will need her attention as well when the potion wears off."

Karl hissed in pain as Jared started cleaning the wound with a wet cloth.

"Can you move your fingers for me?" Billy asked.

Karl tried and was relieved when his hand curled into a fist. He regretted it immediately as fresh blood flows from his wound.

Billy's tsked reproachfully. "Not that much, please."

Karl obediently uncurled his hand and let the two kittens work on him. No point in fighting them.

-

"Allah! You are hurt!!"

It took a few seconds for the words to make sense to Sean and realize that Elijah, who had struggled out of his embrace, was looking up at him, eyes huge with shock and fear.

Especially as Sean wasn't feeling any pain. In fact he hadn't felt better in a long, long time, his heart light with the knowledge that not only where his friends save but that Walken was dead. By his very own hands.

But when he looked down at Lij he also noticed that his hands were wet with fresh blood and his tunic was splattered with it.

Fear changed to confusion in Elijah's eyes at the vicious smile that spread on Sean's lips.

"Don't worry, little lion." Sean reassured him gently. "It's not my blood."

Then the elation of the kill faded as his mind cleared and he thought of Eric and Viggo. He had seen Viggo leave the room following Orlando so he hopefully wasn't hurt to badly but Eric...

Sean's head turned slowly, afraid of what he might see.

Eric was sitting on the floor, momentarily abandoned as Billy and Jared were fussing over Karl who was bleeding from a shoulder wound. Sean quickly dismissed him from his thoughts, he was well cared for by the three kittens. Instead he closed the distance between himself and Eric, kneeling before the man who was his best friend and lover. 

He was so scared of what he would find in his lover's eyes. So scared that he would see what he had seen for months, looking in the mirror. That bleak, hopeless, shattered thing.

But before he could find any words or brace himself, Eric was already grabbing him, hugging him so hard Sean felt his bones crunch.

"Sean..." a voice rough from screaming but not full of despair but with an underlining of terrible rage.

"Sean, answer me truthfully, how long did they keep you in that dungeon...?"

"I... don't know... a month...?" The answer was out before he had time to think about it.

Then he was crushed against Eric again, his lover whispering hoarsely: "Gods, I'm sorry, Sean. I'm so sorry. I should have been there to protect you. For you to endure that all alone... I'm so sorry..."

Sean felt a startled laugh bubble up inside himself. That was what Eric was most worried about?

"It's okay now." He answered just as softy, hugging his friend back. "I'm okay. It's over. He's dead."

"You killed him?" That got Eric's attention. "Damn you! And I was hoping I would be able to wring his neck!"

"Well, I believe I had an older claim..." 

They were both interrupted by Elijah's amused voice. "If you two are quite done bickering and crushing the living daylight out of each other maybe you'll let me have a look at your wounds?"

Sean looked over to Lij and saw the relief he felt himself in the younger man's face. Yes, indeed, Elijah was quickly growing out of being a boy. His daily training was already beginning to show, lean muscles replacing skinny and delicate. He would not grow up to be a helpless toy. He would be as strong as Sean could make him.

With a grin he grabbed Lij and pulled him into their hug, Eric wrapping his bearlike arms around them as well.

"In a minute, kitten," Eric murmured, "in a minute."


	101. Chapter 101

CI  
By Mel

“I always find you in the bath,” Billy’s voice sounded amused as he moved into the room, feet padding on the warm tiles. Dom looked over his shoulder, grinning at him. He’d waited till everyone had finished, which had taken hours and many giggles, before slipping in for a quiet moment. The palace hadn’t quietened in the slightest. Though almost no one had realised the Prince was missing, his return was already being sung in ballads. The celebration was going to last all night and Dom doubted any of them would be permitted to sleep until early in the morning. If they were lucky.

He sunk into the water with a sigh. He looked worn in a way Dom hadn’t seen before, like it had been worth it.

“Was it worth it?”

“Hmmm?” Billy rumbled the noise. It sounded close to the way Dave had purred once.

“Giving up the chance to return home?”

Dom could feel the weighted gaze that Billy levelled at him and he fought from squirming. He had a right to ask, didn’t he? 

Billy seemed to agree, reclining further into the warmth of the water and letting his eyes close. “I would be lying if I didn’t say it was tempting. To have the power to cross those miles. To feel cool grass beneath my toes.”

Dom stiffened at the wistful sigh that Billy uttered. He had been thinking about it all afternoon, would it have been his wish? In Billy’s shoes, would he have freed them? Or would he have wished himself a million miles away, condemning them all to what they had brought upon themselves. He didn’t know. And he was frightened of Billy’s answer.

“My life, however, has lead me here.” Billy stretched in a way that made his toes wiggle above the water and he smiled wistfully. “It is all very exciting and I feel needed in a way I was not at home. I do not think I could have compromised Dave’s freedom even if I wanted to.” Again that bemused tone of voice, like he didn’t believe what he was saying either.

“I guess I was not ready to leave all this any more then you are.”

Dom smiled, nodding even though Billy couldn’t see him. He was fond of them all, in a way that that had transcended his relationship with Orlando. He could not imagine leaving any of them anymore then Billy could. Even for home and for the responsibilities he could see piling up before him. They clogged in his throat. Sometimes they seemed ready to drown him.

“Please don’t.”

As he opened his mouth to spill them all, Billy’s eyes opened and he looked at Dom clearly. For a second Dom saw the weight he carried and how heavy it pinned down on him. It was like seeing his own demons reflected back at him.

“I do not wish, nor need, to know what is in there, Dom. I like your secrets as they are. I do not want you any other way then you are now.”

Dom closed his mouth. Billy was being serious. “I can do that.”

There was a smile, Billy sunk back into the water, eyes drifting close. Silence settled lightly on them.

“Am I the real reason you stay?”

More silence then a softly breathed, “Yes.”

A pair of hands found each other in the water. It didn’t matter who had asked and then answered, it was the same for both.

-

“You, my Prince,” the Caliph sounded quite bemused, “get into more trouble then my own son.” 

Viggo could only smile at the other man, moving forward to return the embrace. They must look like a motley crew; Sean and he in their comfortable northern garb, Eric looking like he’d taken the bad end of a beating but a self satisfied smirk on his lips. Even Karl with a knife wound to his arm, they all looked like they belonged in a smugglers cave or pirate ship rather then honoured men before their Caliph.

Hugo hugged him warmly, teasing him, “perhaps I should name my son as heir again so you may have a rest from your adventures.”

Liz waved at them from the corner of the room, the young Prince on one hip. The little Princess clung to her skirt, but Viggo could see the grin on her face as she watched her adopted brother.

“Come now, my Lord,” Viggo’s smile only grew wider, “we would not have it any other way.”

\---

Jared corrected Orlando’s balance lightly, knowing his difficulty stemmed from his lack of flexibility. It would take time, but Jared had no doubt the practice would pay off and both his dancing skills and subsequent love making would benefit. Of all the boys, Orlando would likely remain Viggo’s first and the exclusivity that came with it would mean Orlando would need much more training.

Orlando moved through the difficult sequence Jared had set him clumsily, he was not used to balancing on one limb at great length, but he kept with it. Trying to transition between the poses was the hardest, especially when Jared had him using his hands as well as his feet. He could see the determination in Orlando’s face, he wasn’t the same boy he had met all those months ago, taking the training without complaint. There was no doubt that soon they would have to source a professional dancer or tumbler when he would surpass Jared’s current skills.

“Very good, we will practice that set again tomorrow,” Jared clapped his hands, “we will take a break now before the afternoon lessons.”

Orlando sighed in delight, flopping back onto his back. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were torturing me.”

“Maybe,” Jared chuckled, “but you did ask to be more useful to the Prince.”

“If he didn’t keep disappearing on me,” he grumbled.

“Perhaps he’ll stay home now that he knows how you feel?”

Orlando snorted. “I don’t think you believe that anymore then I do.”

Jared had to nod. It did sound a little silly when he thought of who they were talking about. It was entirely possible Viggo would never settle.

“I just wish he would stop leaving me behind,” Orlando sounded far off, talking more to himself then to Jared, but Jared nodded just the same. “Still, while we are wishing for the impossible, I would like a winged pony.”

Now it was Jared’s turn to snort, trying to cover up his laughter. “Be careful, you tell him that and he just might go looking for one for you.” The young men shared a laugh at the thought of Viggo traipsing off into the sunset, hunting for the nonexistent creature.

Jared looked out over the city, content in a way he never thought he would be. Months ago he would have agonised on whether or not there was any permanency to his position, living in fear that his purpose would soon be ended and he would be back in that hovel. He knew better now, but it didn’t stop any day from being a blessing.

“I just have to get stronger,” Orlando stood, offering his hand to his friend, “so I can save him from himself.”

Jared could only agree.

\---

The last person Elijah expected to find in the Caliph’s library was Eric, and yet, there he sat, reclining on a chair with his booted feet crossed on a low shelf. He appeared to be humming to himself, flicking through his book at a slow pace as his eyes scanned the words.

“I didn’t know you could read,” Elijah walked up to the older man, keeping his voice low in the silent room.

Eric didn’t look up but a smile played on his lips, “I am my father’s prize diplomat, I speak more languages then most people will come across in their lifetime. Of course I can read.”

Elijah chuckled, “I meant that you seem more at home with a sword in your hand, rather then a quill.”

“That I blame entirely on Sean,” Eric grinned at something only he could see. A memory Elijah didn’t share. 

“Tell me,” Elijah closed Eric’s book, moving it aside as he straddled his lap. “What was it like growing up with them?”

“Viggo was fine,” Eric reclined, his hands resting lightly on his hips, “you just had to get past his saving thing. Ducklings, puppies, there was a hawk once. Kittens,” a soft chuckle past his lips at that one. “His best, though, was Sean. Without Viggo in his life I don’t think he would be the man he his now.”

“Even though he had you?”

“Especially because he had me. Sean hated me. I think he thought I was going to take Viggo from him or some such thing.” Elijah touched his face, feeling the laugh lines against his palm. “He got over it, but things were touch and go there for a while. He was ever so protective of Viggo.”

“I guess that hasn’t changed.” They both shared a smile. “It doesn’t bother you? How Sean feels about Viggo?”

“Why would it?” Eric’s smile deepened as he reached up, bringing Elijah down to him. “I can guarantee we feel the same way about Viggo as we do with you.”

\---

Viggo stood at the edge of the desert, the lowering sun setting fire to the sand. All that time ago he had crossed the desert before him. He could still remember the itch of the sand against his skin and the burn of the sun. Even now those final few days were a hazy memory sand scraping against raw skin and visions of watery oasis that were never there.

Even still, the journey had brought him here, to the place where he belonged.

“Sand still gives me nightmares,” Sean muttered, joining him at the edge of the sand. “Who knew it could get under your eyelids and stay there for days.”

Viggo shuddered at the memory, but smiled at Sean. Though their journeys had been different, both had ended in the same place. Viggo was becoming more confident with the fact that this was where they would always return to.

“A few patrols and the proper attire and you will become used to it,” Karl laughed from his other side.

“The Caliph also approved Orlando’s request to study reading and writing.” This was something Viggo had been surprised, and argued against. Orlando had done it without consulting him, taking the matter to Hugo with only the training Jared had given so far. Yet, his request had been heard, and it wasn’t till much later, after it was done, did Viggo get to hear about it.

It wasn’t till Orlando had laid down his reasoning, reacting just as stubbornly as Sean had in the past, that Viggo had conceded it wasn’t his decision to make. Orlando had been quite firm that Viggo needed an assistant, and that he didn’t think there was anyone better suited for the job then himself. If he didn’t, he was convinced, and loudly so, that Viggo would work himself into an early grave by doing everything himself.

“And besides,” Orlando had finished, a sultry smile curling his lips, “leaving me with nothing to do just means I will distract you anyway.”

This Viggo knew to be true.

“All your Kittens are growing,” Karl agreed. “Jared has begun mentoring under Ian, he is a natural with the new servants.”

“And Billy and Dominic have been getting their hands dirty with the healers. Liz talks about the things they know about herbs and plants with some kind of awe.” Sean put in.

“It makes my rooms feel quite lonesome,” Viggo grumbled half heartedly.

“Now you know how they must feel every time you disappear on them,” Karl pointed out. “If you didn’t keep leaving them to their own devices they wouldn’t have to find things they excelled at.”

“Karl is right,” Sean teased, “you’ve brought this on yourself, my Prince.”

As he watched the sun finish its slow dip into the horizon, standing beside the two men it had all began with, Viggo couldn’t bring himself to do more then agree. Life had never been better.


	102. Chapter 102

Epilogue  
By Beryll

Sunset was almost always a spectacular sight in Aqaba. When the day had been clear it graced the city with the sight of a huge ball of fire kissing the horizon good night, almost too bright to look at. Had the day been stormy it would set the whole horizon on fire with dull red and flaming orange.

Today had been of the stormy variety. Sand had blown in from the desert all day, covering everything - and everyone - with a fine layer of yellow dust.

The Prince, Sean and Eric had complained about it all day. Elijah found it deeply amusing that after all these years in Aqaba they still hadn't gotten used to the simple fact of sand being everywhere.

Amusing and endearing.

His eyes on the smouldering horizon he cast his mind back. So much had happened in the last few years.

He still clearly remembered how Prince Viggo and Eric had been saved from the plotting of the Caliph's cousin. How after that they had all relaxed, hoping for "happily ever after".

Eric had stayed until he had been fully healed, both him and Viggo slowly recovering from their ordeal. Then Eric had returned home at last, much to Sean's and Elijah's sadness. They had grown so close that separation had been a physical pain. At least Sean and Elijah had still had each other and channelled their grief into vigorous training. 

When Eric had returned almost half a year later Elijah had beaten him in their first training fight with reflexes honed to perfection. 

This time Eric had stayed, appointed as permanent ambassador.

Things had been calm, happy.

Then the Prince, Eric, Sean and Karl had gone missing on a hunting trip. They had simply not returned from the desert.

At first it felt like a repeat of Viggo's earlier escapades. Only this time they were all gone. All the great warriors - gone.

Despairing and clinging to them had not been an option. And quite frankly, all the kittens had done a lot of growing up in the mean time and were sick and tired of clinging and despairing.

So they had shed all the pretty, grabbed food, light armor and weapons, stolen horses and set out themselves to bring back their missing masters.

It had turned out they had been taken by one of the desert raider tribes. And being quite attractive men the raiders had kept them as slaves. Rescuing them had involved Dominic telling some of the most outrages lies Elijah had ever heard in his life to get Karl back; Orlando proving in front of the whole tribe that Viggo was indeed HIS obedient slave in a most indecent way; and Elijah fighting a duel to the death against two of the tribe men to regain possession of Sean and Eric.

However they had left with the tribe befriended and now guarding the northern deserts in the name of the Caliph - who they believed to be in thrall to Billy but that really was just a minor detail, wasn't it?

After that episode Viggo had freed Elijah and he had become a member of the Prince's guard.

With the realm secure Viggo had decided it was high time he paid a visit to his homeland to apologize to his father and family.

Accompanied by Orlando, Sean, Eric, Elijah and Billy - who had been promised they would also visit his home - they had sailed to the far north.

They had arrived in the middle of a war and Elijah had had his first - and second and third and lots more - chance to fight in a real battle. It was not something he relished but it had raised him once and for all to equal status with his two lovers.

Visiting Scotland on their return journey they had all been involved in the three bloody and brutal trials Billy had to pass to be pronounced a full fledged druid, allowed to leave again without supervision.

Back home they had been greeted with the news that Dominic had disappeared, leaving behind a cryptic note not to worry about him.

Billy's scrying had pointed them towards the capital of all the east, the Sultan's seat of power. Viggo had not been able to join that mad adventure, being needed back in Aqaba. Instead he had been treated to what it felt like to be left behind as Orlando had joined Elijah, Billy and Eric. 

They had found Dominic, who had been in dire need of assistance, uncovered and foiled a plot against the Sultan and finally discovered who Dominic really was: the Sultan's son, sent out to gather experience before one day ruling all of the east. They had all been sworn to secrecy. Not even Viggo and Sean knew about Dominic's true identity.

Then there had been the war against Elijah's father, which had ended with Elijah taking his own father's head and being honoured for his bravery by the Caliph himself.

The mad chase all across the Mediterranean Sea after Dominic had stolen a treasure map from Captain Depp.

And a half dozen more adventures.

Happily ever after definitely was a thing happening only in the tales, Elijah mused.

Tonight promised to be a calm night though, spend with Sean and Eric and a few bottles of wine, hopefully ending with a passionate three way tumble in their shared large bed.

But surely tomorrow would hold another unexpected excitement.

And he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.


End file.
